The Highwayman
by GingerSnaps08
Summary: On the moors of 18th century England, a country Inn serves as the breeding ground of secrets, love, betrayal, and revenge. Will Sookie's life be turned upside down by the appearance of the midnight rider? Inspired by a poem of the same name. AU/AH
1. The Country Inn

**Yay! My first Fic! **

**So I think I've decided that this takes place sometime in the 1780s-1790s. Between the American Revolution and French Revolution (but it takes place in southern England). Confusing enough for you? Good. Stay confused. I'm writing about a time period I know little about and a country I've never been too. So the more confused you are, the better off I am. Be gentle and use your imagination.**

**Quick note: This is based off of a poem by the same name, but if you've read it, don't worry, I'm not following it to the T.**

**Disclaimer: Charlaine Harris and Alfred Noyes…you da bomb. I am not da bomb.**

**And so it begins…**

I was glad for the quiet of the afternoon. It had been only this morning that so many of our lodgers had left back for London. The late season snow, that had surprised us early in the week, had finally melted off enough to tempt them back to travel. Though I doubt they would have stayed much longer regardless of the weather. They all longed for the society that they had, only weeks ago, sought to escape from at our little inn. Whatever their reason, I was glad for their leaving. Their thoughts had been a constant annoyance, loud and rude.

Now, the only company we kept were a pair of older gentlemen that claimed to be writers. I did not dare to question them on this fact, though I never saw them write anything. They rose late in the day and spent most of the remainder napping in the parlor. Only occasionally had I seen them go out for a ride; but of course, that was before the snow. Their nightly activities were only slightly more strenuous. They rose themselves to drink ale and smoke in the corner of the dining room, gossiping with the other tenants. I was often fascinated by these and other habits of different guests of the inn, it was usually the only entertainment I knew.

The inn was a modest building, but clean and comfortable. Off the main highway, we did not attract much attention, but we did well enough in the spring and summer to maintain the business. I had often thought the seclusion of the inn to be the main reason for my being sent here. If there was no one around, there would be no one to discover my odd and inexplicable ability.

Since before I could remember, I had lived here with my grandmother and brother. My parents had died in a flood when I was only five years old, and I remembered very little of them. My brother was older and was affected more by their death. Jason was always a restless sort of boy, always looking for trouble. When the war started with America, he gladly sought out the excitement of battle. He'd left us to fight, but even after the war ended, he chose not to return.

It was always the quiet days that I missed him so dearly. Even now as I washed the windows I thought of him. I had hoped that escaping outside during such a precious sunny day would lift my spirits, but I was wrong. As I stretched for the tops of the glass I remembered how Jason used to come up behind me and lift me up to reach. Though it was all in vain; I was often laughing too hard to remember my chore.

"Do you need some help?" I was startled by the voice and turned to see Mr. Compton emerging from the stables.

"No thank you, Mr. Compton. I was just finishing." I smiled politely as I collected my cloth and bucket. Mr. Compton managed our stables for us and had long since been a fixture in our lives.

"Alright then, miss. Not much to do in the barn with all the company gone. If you be needin' any help, you just call for me." He cleaned his hands on his shirt tail as he spoke and watched as I walked into the kitchen.

Inside, Gran was poking at the fire under her pot, muttering under her breath. I watched with a small smile on my lips and sat down at the table, knowing she was not paying attention and would frighten herself when she turned around and saw me. I was not disappointed. Upon turning she grabbed her chest before giving me a scolding look.

"I've told you before not to sneak up on me. I'm an old woman, you'll be scaring me to my grave one of these days." She wiped her hands on her apron and began chopping carrots

"You don't fool me for a moment, Gran. I doubt that anything could send you to your grave without your consent first." I smiled at her and stood to take the knife from her hand so she could sit and rest. For a few moments we were silent, with only the crackle of the fire disturbing the room.

"Where have you been all day? I haven't seen you since breakfast." She spoke as she tucked some wayward strands of her hair under her cap.

"I helped make up the vacated rooms before I went outside for a bit. It's been a beautiful afternoon. I hope the weather stays so pleasant." Gran had hired a chambermaid, Anne, several years ago when she could no longer maintain the house as she liked. Anne was a quiet girl who kept to herself and slept in the pantry off the kitchen. I often helped her if I was without work because I found her company as peaceful as company could be.

"Sookie, don't get your hopes up. It's still early for such good weather. I'll bet by tonight the fog will roll in and tomorrow will be just as grey. But you should go out and enjoy the day. Go for a ride maybe." She rose and went to start the kettle for tea.

"I would, but that would mean that I would have to speak with Mr. Compton again." I wrinkled my nose in distaste while she had her back turned.

"Sookie dear, what is so wrong with Mr. Compton? Has he done something to offend you?" She took my cut carrots and added them to her stew before taking her seat again.

"No, Gran. But I feel as if he is always around anymore. I cannot seem to walk outside without him asking my opinion on the weather or if I need assistance with a chore." Gran passed me the potatoes to begin cutting but remained silent. "Do you think he is lonely?"

"No my dear," she laughed a bit before continuing. "I believe Mr. Compton has developed a bit of liking for you, Sookie. And why should he not? You're a beautiful young woman, dear."

"Gran! That is an outrageous suggestion. I fear Mrs. Halladay may have infected you with her need for gossip and drama. I will be in the dining room when you come to your senses." There was a smile in my voice as I spoke and I knew Gran would only laugh after I had left the room, but her suspicious were only a voice to my own fears. I would make an effort to not encourage any advances from Mr. Compton in future.

I was preparing the dining room for supper when two men entered the room. I smiled to myself as both Mr. Norris and Mr. Felton made their way to their normal table just as I had finished lighting the lanterns in anticipation for sunset. They beckoned for me and I went to get them both some ale, checking on Gran as I passed through the kitchen. She winked at me as I passed.

"Sookie my dear, it is abnormally dull in here this evening." Mr. Norris commented as I set down his drink.

"Yes Mr. Norris. I'm afraid the Ratray couple and Mrs. Halladay's company have abandoned us just this morning." I smiled kindly at the man, he had been very friendly to me since his arrival. His friend, Mr. Felton was much less amiable. I could tell from his thoughts that he was not nearly as content with the country as Mr. Norris was.

"Well then, I regret a terrible chore has fallen to you. You must sit and talk with us until dinner." He stood and pulled out a chair at the table for me but his smile fell when he saw me hesitate.

"Come now Ms. Stackhouse. If you don't join us, I will have to count on Felton's company, a fate to which I cannot resigned myself." I smiled at Mr. Norris and was about to give in when the sound of a horses and the creeks of wheels over cobblestones filled the courtyard. Mr. Norris heard it too and with a disappointed sigh, excused me to welcome the visitor.

Gran had heard the approach as well and had come out from the kitchen to see our new guest. She wiped her hands on her apron and I could tell she was a bit reluctant for more company, having just gotten rid of a troublesome group. We shared a look, each hoping for a kind and easy guest to emerge, but the look of the carriage did nothing to ease our fears. Despite its muddied appearance it was clearly a private coach, and no expense had been sparred in its making. The driver and footman wore matching coats as well as expressions of exhaustion.

The footman stepped down and opened the door to the carriage. For a few moments, no one emerged. I was beginning to wonder if there was anyone inside when a young woman popped her head out, instantly taking in the surroundings of the courtyard as she extended her hand for the footman to help her down. When she finally registered that I was standing in front of her I made to curtsey but was stopped when her hands grabbed my shoulders and forced me to look her in the face.

"Please tell me you have wine!" Her eyes were bright with excitement and her brunette hair was poking out in all directions from under her hat. I opened my mouth hoping that some answer would form itself in response to such an odd demand but was cut off by another voice.

"Amelia! Contain yourself, girl." An elderly woman was descending slowly from the coach and admonishing her companion as she did. When she had solid footing on the ground she spotted my Gran and made for her, leaning heavily on her cane as she went.

"Are you the mistress of this Inn?" She enquired of Gran.

"Yes Ma'am," Gran bowed her head to the woman. "Adele Stackhouse at your service. This is my granddaughter Miss Sookie Stackhouse."

Gran motioned to me and both woman smiled in my direction.

"I am Octavia Fant and this is my charge Miss Amelia…um…Broadway. We wonder if you have a vacancy. We will need a room for several days at least." She seemed a bit shaken as she spoke and Gran quickly confirmed that we could accommodate them. Upon hearing so, Amelia turned back to me.

"Miss Stackhouse, would you be so kind as to show me to my room?" I smiled at her and nodded but inwardly cringed at the volume and intensity of her thoughts. They were wild with excitement and danced around inside my head as if they were my own thoughts. I tried to create a mental barrier to make her company more tolerable and began to lead her upstairs.

I knew that Gran would want to house these ladies in our best rooms. It was evident from their clothing and mode of transport that they were quite wealthy and therefore used to impeccable accommodations. I led Ms. Broadway to one of my favorite rooms that had a beautiful view of the lake on a bright day. It also looked out onto the road that led from the highway to our little home. I'd often sat up here watching for company when I was little and bored.

"Here we are Miss. Is this to your liking?" I stood at the door and watched as Miss Broadway threw herself across the bed and smiled up at me.

"It's lovely, thank you. But please call me Amelia. I am in desperate need of a confidante my own age and I can already tell you have a kind disposition. We shall be friends." It was not a question. The way she said it left little room for argument, so I simply tried to maintain a friendly smile. "Tell me Sookie, how far are we from the coast here?"

"Well that depends Miss," She gave me a hard stare and I corrected myself, "Amelia. The coast is not far at all, but the closest port is Truro and is nearly two days ride away. Why do you ask, miss?"

"Because the ocean is my freedom and my future!" She stood up and grasped me by the arms before leading me to the chair at the small writing desk and forcing me to sit. "But I cannot do it alone. I need your help my new friend. Will you hear my plan?"

I was only able to nod before she hugged me tightly, perched on the edge of the desk, and began to speak.

"I am in love," she began. "I have just been swept away from the French court and my beloved by my father and Miss Fant. They completely and utterly disapprove, which I find only strengthens my resolve. I was being held in Bath, but yesterday morning I received a letter from my love who promised that he was on his way to my side. Mrs. Fant nearly fainted at the news and decided to hide me away in the country." I felt her sadness and excitement threw her thoughts as clearly as she expressed them with her words. It was quite shocking to meet someone so consistent as to not say one thing and think something quite the opposite. I found myself warming to this new guest faster than usual, and was intrigued by her story.

"Well I dare say that your chaperone has succeeded. We are quite a distance from any large town. But I will help you in whatever way I can, even if it is only to keep you company." She looked a bit saddened at first but then straightened up and continued.

"He will come for me. I know this. He is most likely, at this moment, on my trail and will be here soon. And when he is, we will leave together for America and start a new life." She stared off for a moment with a gleam in her eye and turned back to say something else when Mr. Compton knocked on the door.

"Miss Broadway, where would you like your things?" Amelia motioned for him to set them near the desk and I watched in amazement as he, along with the footman, set down the largest traveling trunk I had ever seen. Mr. Compton smiled at me before leaving the room. Amelia immediately opened the trunk and began to unpack. I could see that she was happy at this task and said my farewell, leaving her in peace until dinner.

Despite Amelia's presence, the evening was quiet and without the uproar she seemed to promise with her arrival. She and Mrs. Fant had eaten dinner alone, despite the requests of Mr. Norris to join his table. The night had cooled, as Gran had predicted, and the fog began to roll off the lake and envelope the inn. After dinner, the guests departed to their rooms to warm themselves in their beds. Even Mr. Norris did not try to tempt anyone to stay and socialize.

I helped Gran clean the dishes and douse the candles before retiring for my own room. After disrobing down to my shift, it became abundantly clear how cold the night was and I wrapped myself into an extra shawl before climbing into bed.

I lay there, trying to will myself to sleep but it seemed like such a far away goal. I felt as though I were waiting for something to happen. Amelia's arrival had put me on edge, along with the strange shifts in the weather. It seemed so indecisive. I tried to think of what I would do tomorrow. Perhaps write to Jason? I had not done so in several weeks. Yes, that would bring me some peace. I smiled to myself and my resolve to write my brother and snuggled further into my sheets. I could just feel the edges of sleep teasing at my mind when my eyes snapped open to the sound of a horse in the distance. I sat up a bit in bed but could not detect the noise that had roused me. I was about to lay back down when I heard it again. Unmistakable this time.

Tlot-tlot Tlot-tlot

I wondered if it was just a rider on the highway that would pass us on some urgent mission. This thought quickly left my mind when the noise grew louder, it was approaching the inn. I listened as the rider came into the courtyard and stopped, the horse vocally protesting against the command of the reigns.

Moments later, there was an unmistakable knocking at the door of inn. I knew Gran would answer the door, she would not want me to open the door alone to a stranger so late at night. But I could not resist a look at the rider. Carefully, I drew back the heavy curtains on my window and gazed down at the courtyard, lit dully by the moon.

The rider still sat upon his horse. His hat was drawn low over his brow and his coat collar pulled up far, obscuring much of his face (no doubt to protect from the cold). The man carried a whip in his hand with the reigns and his other rested on his side, drawing attention to the rapier attached at his hip. His horse stepped anxiously, kicking the fog into spirals that upset the entire courtyard. The movement scarred me. The man seemed a ghost that I prayed would leave rather than stay and haunt us. But he did not leave.

I heard Gran unlatching the door downstairs and was about to leave my post at the window when suddenly the rider's head snapped up to my window. For only a moment did he hold me with his sharp blue eyes before I let go my grip on the curtains and stepped back from the window.

The night seemed infinitely more cold than it had a moment ago.

**Ok…how was it?**

**The second chapter is already underway, but I could be tempted to work faster by some feedback. *hint hint"**

**Are we liking Sookie's perspective? Or do we absolutely need a glimpse into Eric's mind?**

**PLEASE REVIEW!**


	2. The Midnight Rider

**Hey, so there are a couple things I wanted to clear up. Yes, Sookie is a telepath in my story. I know I don't really address it directly, but I do mention it several times. I figure, we all know Sookie's a telepath, we all know how it works, so I'm not going to bore you with a recount of it. Also, fanfiction has been... not nice…to authors recently so I'm hoping this is showing up in the right fandom. It's SVM. For the same reasons, this story has no character's listed in the summary but it is an Eric/Sookie story.**

**Now: THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU! For everyone who has read and/or reviewed my story…you guys are awesome! So sweet!**

I was frozen in my place for what could have been only a moment before my door burst open and Amelia rushed for the window.

"It is him! It is him! My love has come for me!" Her frantic whispers startled me from my position and I reached out to try and calm her down, but she was already past me. She stood at the window, holding back the curtain completely with her face pressed as closely to the glass as she dared. Her breath fogged it over and she frantically wiped away the obstruction. She was silent for a few moments and I could hear Gran's voice carry up the stairs. It was impossible to make out the words, but she spoke for only a few moments before I heard the door close softly.

"It is not him." I had never thought I would hear Amelia speak with such pain in her voice. I rushed over to the window to hold her as a few tears fell from her eyes. As she cried, I looked back down at the courtyard to see the mysterious rider lead his horse into the stable, emerging a few minutes later with his pack slung across his shoulder. I noticed he limped a bit as he made his way across the cobblestones, favoring his right side.

Again, the door to the inn opened and closed and I could hear Gran speaking again. This time her voice was louder and I heard the stairs creak under her footfalls. They protested even louder under the weight of the man that followed her. I watched the light of her lamp become brighter in the gap between my door and the floor. It slowly reached its zenith as they passed and dulled again as they made their way to the last door on the opposite side of the hallway, only a few feet past my own. He must not be paying much. That room was the smallest of the house and you could hear the stables beneath it.

"If you need anything, dear, just let me know." Gran offered. I hear the deep cadence of the man's voice as he dismissed her, but the words were too quiet to hear. His door shut and again the phantom light made its way down the hallway and disappeared down the stairs.

Amelia had finally calmed in my arms and was again looking down to the courtyard, no doubt hoping that another visitor would appear.

"Amelia, he will come for you, I'm sure. Until then, you need your rest. You would not want to look pale and sickly when he arrives." I softly smiled at her, knowing she would accept my words. She nodded gently and rose to walk to the door, but stopped with her hand on the knob.

"Thank you, Sookie. We may be newly acquainted, but your friendship is already dear to me." We shared another smile and she quietly left the room. I listened closely for her own door to shut and let out a sigh when I did.

The house was once again occupied. There would be cooking and cleaning and perhaps trips to the village tomorrow. I curled back in bed and hugged the covers tight to me. At least I would be busy, and therefore would have no time to be caught into conversation with Mr. Compton. That peaceful thought lulled me to sleep. I did not wake again until the dull light of a dreary morning peaked out from under the curtains.

"Good morning, Gran." I smiled as I entered the kitchen. Gran was sitting at the table cleaning her eyeglasses on her apron, her bible open in front of her.

"Good morning, dear. Did you sleep well?" She closed her book and set her glasses on top of it, setting in to chat with me for a few moments.

"Yes Gran, though I wish you had woken me sooner, I did not mean to sleep in." I usually arose much earlier to help prepare and serve breakfast.

"Don't trouble yourself dear, Anne was helping me. Besides, it was only Mrs. Fant and Miss Broadway that came down for breakfast. Everyone else slept in as well." She patted my arm as I got myself a cup of tea and piece of last night's bread for breakfast. I sat across from her and chewed at the crust, enjoy the quiet company. Unfortunately, it was not to last.

"Oh! I haven't told you. We had another guest late in the night." She was positively giddy at having a piece of news for me.

"Yes, Gran. I heard him arrive. He wasn't very quiet about it." I was still a bit bitter about not being able to sleep until so late.

"It's odd that you should say that. The man seemed to have a very quiet disposition; didn't speak a word that wasn't needed." She looked pensive for a moment before giggling a bit and adding, "I don't think Mr. Norris will be too fond of Mr. Northman."

I giggled too at the thought. Mr. Norris was a kind man but did not like to take 'no' for an answer, and even less liked to have no answer at all. The thought wore off and I was struck by another bit of Gran's comment.

"His name is Mr. Northman?" Gran nodded. "Did you learn anything else about him? Did he say why he came so late?"

"No dear. He didn't volunteer any information." She seemed to hesitate for a moment before continuing. "But if you ask me, he's not from around here. His accent was a bit off. And he seemed a bit worse for wear, like he'd been traveling for quite a while."

"Hm…It just seems a bit odd that he wouldn't stop sooner when it was so cold and dark." I kept my eyes on my tea, warming my fingers around the cup as I spoke.

"It's not our place to be determining his motives dear. But I am a bit worried for him. I don't know if he stopped for dinner last night and he didn't come down for breakfast. Would you mind taking a tray up to him, dear?" I froze at the suggestion. I had no desire to be met, yet again, with his cold stare. It suited me fine to let him stay alone in his room, but I knew Gran would question me if I did not agree.

"Of course, Gran." She smiled and instantly went about preparing a tray while I plastered a fake smile on my lips.

I went slow carrying the tray up the narrow stairway and down the hallway. The dishes clattered a bit with each step…and perhaps a bit from shaking. I was not looking forward to seeing the man at the end of the hall. I did not know him, but there was something about the look in his eye that had scared me the night before. It was not hostile or angry, but perhaps painful; though I could not tell you if the pain was mine or his. All I knew was that if his stare was so unsettling, I did not want to hear his thoughts. It was for this reason that I gave myself a moment outside his door, making sure that my mental barriers were cleanly and strongly erected. When this was done, I could no longer delay, and knocked quickly and soundly at the door.

For several moments there was no sound behind the door. I was about to happily make my retreat when the creaking of wood and a frustrated groan sounded from behind the door. I held my breath, hoping I had not awoken, and therefore angered, the rider.

"Who is it?" The voice was deep and a distance away, he had not approached the door.

"Miss Stackhouse. I've brought you a breakfast tray." I was proud that my voice held firm.

"Leave it. I'll retrieve it in a bit." I stared at the door in shock. Was he too busy to be bothered with opening the door? I did not like this man, but I would not embarrass my Gran by making a scene.

"Yes, sir," I spat as the door as I set the tray down, with less care than I should have. There was no other sound from the room and I went back down the stairs in a huff.

I could hear laughter from the parlor and headed in that direction, standing in the doorway for a moment gauging the events unfolding within. Mrs. Fant was asleep on the sofa with her embroidery forgotten in her lap. Her head lulled forward and pushed into her chest creating a constant frown. The noise was obviously not coming from her.

On the other side of the room, Amelia sat across from Mr. Norris at the chess table, though it looked as if cards were the current game. Mr. Felton stood leaning against the back of Amelia's chair with a rare grin on his face. Amelia was laughing and Mr. Norris looked rather aghast at whatever had happened.

"Miss Broadway," Mr. Norris pronounced with admiration in his voice. "It has been quite some time since I have been bested at any game of cards. Where did you ever learn such skill?"

He looked quite taken aback at the whole ordeal and Amelia continued to giggle as she responded.

"Well Mr. Norris, I assure you that I was quite unfamiliar with cards until my recent stay at Versailles. It was a great learning experience. Though I must confess, I did not acquire much skill at all." She looked mischievously at Mr. Norris who only seemed confused by her words. She continued. "I did, however, learn quite well how to cheat."

As she spoke, Amelia reached up into the lace of her sleeve and withdrew a card from the hiding spot. As soon as she revealed it, she immediately began to laugh and was soon joined by Mr. Felton, who seemed to be in on the plot. Mr. Norris could not hide the look of betrayal on his face and Amelia quickly apologized, and was just as quickly forgiven. When she saw me standing at the door, she relinquished her seat to Mr. Felton and came over to hug me.

"Good morning, Sookie."

"Good morning, Amelia." I hugged her back. I was becoming infinitely more grateful to have such a warm personality in the house; especially with such a cold personality looming upstairs. She looped her arm in mine and led me through the dining room and out into the courtyard.

"You seem in a much better mood this morning. Are you feeling better?" I asked, knowing that she had been upset when she had left my room the night before.

"Yes, much. Thank you for consoling me last night." She squeezed my arm tighter as she led me to the stables. I wanted to protest but did not want to draw attention to the fact that I was avoiding Mr. Compton.

"It was nothing Amelia, I was actually glad for your company. It was a strange evening," I confided.

"It was, wasn't it? Have you met the midnight horseman yet?" She raised her eyebrows in hope of good gossip.

"Not really. I've just delivered a tray to his door, but he did not answer. Gran says he might be a foreigner though. She thinks his accent is strange." We had made our way to one of the horses that had drawn Amelia's carriage and stroked him gently while we spoke.

"A foreigner? Well this is certainly shaping into a fine mystery. Did your Gran say if he was handsome?" Her last question had obviously just come to her and the excitement of it was clear on her features.

"She did not." I shook my head and silently laughed at her disappointment.

"Were you lookin' to take him out, Miss?" Amelia and I were both startled by the question and turned to see Mr. Compton standing at the door. I was not sure of the answer and looked to Amelia to respond.

"No, I was just checking on him. He's a sweet boy." She smiled and scratched at the animal in front of us.

"Aye. He's well trained that one. It's the beast at the end that's all the trouble." He pointed to the last stall and I followed his gesture. I began to make my way down there to see for myself when he spoke again. "Leave him be, Sookie. I can't be sure what riles him up, and I don't want you gettin' hurt. "

I smiled at Mr. Compton's concern, but was also worried by it. He was a good man but I did not want to lead him on. I choose not to push the subject of the horse and went back to Amelia who indicated that she was ready to leave. She hooked her arm in mine once more and led me out of the stables, Mr. Compton took of his hat and patted at his dark hair as we passed .

Amelia informed me that Mrs. Fant would be waking soon and that she intended to keep her company for the afternoon, she claimed that keeping Mrs. Fant happy was key to her plan. I smiled at how optimistic she was and left her at the doorway to the parlor. As I passed the foot of the stairs I distinctively heard a small ruckus of china clanking together followed by the shutting of a door. It appeared Mr. Northman was done with his breakfast. Knowing I would eventually have to collect it, I resigned to be finished with the chore and went directly upstairs to retrieve it. I kept my steps as quiet as possible and knelt down to collect the tray. Just as I was about to rise, the door burst open to reveal a pair of dark leather boots.

I paused for a moment before slowly rising from my position. I kept my eyes ahead of me. As they rose, so did the leather of the boots, stretching upwards and only stopping at the thigh, replaced by doeskin breeches and a haphazardly tucked shirt. When I had finally stood to my full height, I had still only reached the sight of his chest, left visible by his untied neckline. I was determined to not show the fear that had most certainly been evident in my face last night, and glanced up at the man's face.

His eyes were not the wild and icy mirrors I had glanced at last night. Today they held only the fatigue of the rest of his appearance. His blond hair, similar to the shade of mine, was tied back, but many strands had escaped the knot. If it were not for the boots, I would have assumed he'd just gotten out of bed. He leaned against the doorway with one arm and looked at me with expectation, as if wishing me to speak. I was not about to endure an uncomfortable silence.

"Sir?" I asked, with the slightest bit of hostility in my voice. His face seemed to change only minutely, suggesting the possibility of a grin, but it was quickly smoothed away.

"I need this delivered. Do you think you can handle that?" He held out his hand to me, a sealed letter resting between his fingers. A solitary eyebrow raised, he looked down at me with amusement evident in his gaze. Why should he be so entertained by me? Had I made such a fool of myself in that single look last night when he had arrived? Well I was not a fool. I was not a silly country girl.

"It is difficult for my poor country mind to grasp the great complexities of the _post_, sir, but I shall try." I snatched the letter from his hand and turned my back on him as I quickly made my way to the stairs and descended. Though little, everything I knew about the man angered me. He seemed determined to inconvenience everyone, belittling them as he did. He was trouble, and I would be glad when he left.

Returning the tray to the kitchen, I sat with a huff at the table, the letter in front of me. Gran was cleaning a chicken and spared a quick glance for me.

"Something wrong, love?" She smiled, already knowing that something was, in fact, wrong.

"No. Mr. Northman just has a letter for the post." I picked at my nails, determined not to let Gran see the fire in my eyes. She chuckled a little at my obvious temper.

"Best leave it for tomorrow. I don't want you getting suck out at dark on your way to town." I smiled at the thought. I would send his letter, but I would take my time doing it. I tucked it into my apron and stood to help Gran finish dinner, determined to have a better evening.

Dinner was a slightly brighter event than it had been the night before. Amelia had pouted and convinced Mrs. Fant to allow Mr. Norris and Mr. Felton to join them for dinner. While their party conversed and enjoyed their dinner, I could not help but notice something missing; a certain very tall and very infuriating man.

When plates were finally cleared, the noise of the house quieted as each guest retired. Gran said her goodnight and I listened as she made her way to her room and closed the door behind her. When there was finally silence, I reveled in it. I realized just how much effort I had been putting into my metal barriers, trying to keep out thoughts, especially Amelia's. Finally, I had been left to my own.

A new wave of energy rushed through me. I could not possibly go to bed. For the first time in several weeks I felt as if I truly had the house to myself, and I would take advantage of it. Lamp in hand, I made my way into the parlor and traced my fingers along the books on the shelf. They were all familiar to me. I could picture each book in Gran's hands and all the characters had some variation of her voice as she'd read them aloud to me. I made my selection, taking the book back to the dining room. I must have sat there for an hour reading and picking at a piece of bread, my lamp perched on the table for light. It was a privilege to have such quiet in a house that was built to be filled with people. And people, especially for me, meant noise.

The quiet was not to last. The stairs creaked heavily as someone descended. I looked up, expecting Amelia to be sneaking around for a nightcap or perhaps seeking me for company. I was wrong again.

"Miss Stackhouse." Mr. Northman was surprised to see me, or most likely anyone at this time of night. He wore the same outfit as this morning, the only difference was that he had removed the band from his hair, letting it brush across his shoulders.

"Mr. Northman. I trust there's nothing wrong with your room?" I had not intended it, but my voice was tight and higher than usual, a false and overly bright smile on my face. I closed my book, ready to dismiss myself at the first opportunity.

"My room? No…it's adequate." His eyes squinted infinitesimally, a clear question in his voice.

"Oh, I'm glad to hear it. I assumed it must be on fire for you to leave it." _Sookie Stackhouse!_ Gran's voice mentally scolded me. I did not mean to be so hostile, but a part of me repelled against this man. I knew from the moment I had seen him that he was the manifestation of trouble. Though he had not yet, I knew he would prove this with time. And besides…he had interrupted my reading.

I had glanced down in contrition for my temper, but his movement caught my attention. He did not seem angry by my words; in fact, he seemed to smile as he slowly stepped towards the table. I noticed that his continued to favor his right side, his hand resting just above his left hip. He stopped next to the table and picked up a piece of my bread. For the quickest of moments he grinned down at me and popped the bread into his mouth. The grin unnerved me, as did the mirth in his eyes. I wrapped my shawl around me, covering what parts of my chest that my dress left exposed.

"It's 'Sookie', yes?" I nodded quickly at the question, wishing desperately that I had just gone to bed with the rest of the house. "You know, Sookie, I've spent a great deal of time in the country. But I have a feeling this trip is going to be especially interesting."

This man's ego was unmatched. I was trying to decided if I should just stand up and walk away when he reached to pull out a chair at the table. As his hand left his side, I gasped. He noticed my shock and looked down to where my eyes were burning into his side. There was blood on his shirt. He sighed and answered without having to be asked a question.

"It's a few days old, not bad at all, but I think I've pulled a stitch." He sat down and leaned back in the chair, taking another piece of bread. He chewed for a moments before continuing. "I was actually coming down to look for a needle. I figure someone would have left an embroidery kit lying around."

I sat there for a moment and watched him. He seemed content to sit there in silence and pick at the bread, but my mind was reeling. I did not like him. He made me nervous, and I believe that was his desired effect. But he was also bleeding. If it was really just a stitch, I knew I could help. The stable boys were often befalling minor misfortunes that Gran or I would tend to. With a huff, I stood from the table and left the room, returning a few minutes later. Mr. Northman cast a curious glance at the table as I sat down a mug of ale, two more slices of bread and cheese, and Mrs. Fant's embroidery kit that had indeed been left in the parlor.

"May I?" I gestured to the wound on Mr. Northman's side. He sighed and sat up in his chair. His reached his right arm over his shoulder and grabbed at the fabric on his back, pulling his shirt over his head and off completely.

I could not look at his face. I could not move at all. I was fairly certain that my mouth was slightly open, but I could not seem to remind myself to close it. For several moments I sat immobile trying to decide my next move. I was sitting in an empty room with a half naked man that I barely knew. While certainly jarring, it was also quite inappropriate. I could only imagine the look on Gran's face if she were to walk in. I had been walking a thin line by simply speaking to him in a room alone. I finally exhaled. I had offered my help, and would follow through…though I would do so quickly.

"You've torn several stitches." I chastised Mr. Northman as he ate the snack I'd brought him.

"It was a long ride," was all he offered. I worked quickly, but carefully to restitch the wound. It was not too deep and did not look infected, so I did not doubt he would heal. But as I worked, my curiosity was becoming too much to bare…along with the silence.

"How did it happen?" I asked, daring a peek up to his face. He was watching me with a curious look on his face. He remained silent, and I assumed that I had overstepped my bounds.

"I had a run-in with an old friend." His voice had hardened. I did not respond and kept my eyes on my work. As my hand touched his side, I realized how careless I was being. The simple touch was enough to drop me unceremoniously into the slithering and bottomless pit of his thoughts. Twisting and squeezing me with his anger and hate and cold resolve. With all my strength, I pulled myself out of the darkness and shut up my shields, blocking his mind from my own.

"Are you alright, Sookie?" Mr. Northman had noticed my hesitation. Once again my overly bright smile graced my features to reassure him.

"I'm fine, Mr. Northman."

"Sookie," A playful, and therefore terrifying, expression appeared on the face above me. "You've gotten me nearly naked. You can at least call me Eric."

I swallowed hard and finished the last stitch.

"Finished." I tried not to look at him as I cleaned up. "I think you'll survive. Good night, Eric."

I stood and left the room quickly, not stopping until I was in my room with the door closed soundly. I removed my clothing quickly and rushed to the bed, curling tightly in the covers. I stayed awake for quite some time, relaxing only after the sound of footsteps had passed in the hallway and a nearby door was shut.

**Well well well. Chapter two is done and out there….and very long. I feel like it's 50 pages, even though I know it's only 7. Go easy on me for any errors you may find, I don't have a beta and I've just edited it at 2am. I just wanted to get it out there for you all to enjoy! Also, I promise there is going to be some good action in this story, but the next couple chapters will mostly be setting up the story, please just bare with me (and I won't deny you some Ericness). I promise I have a plan!**

**Again, THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU for reading and PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE drop me a review with any thoughts or ideas ("you're awesome" reviews are also welcome =D )!**


	3. The Dead Man

**WOOT WOOT! Chapter Three! We're officially rolling. Btw: sorry for the delay, I was in Reno for a couple of days and was far too drunk to be writing…or really even talking. W/e, it was a good time! So I know this chapter isn't heavy Eric, but he's still in mysterious mode, and can therefore not be too prominent. But I still hope you enjoy it!**

**Disclaimer: Yup, still not mine. Maybe if I keep hoping, Charlaine Harris will give the rights to me…along with Eric.**

Sleep could not hold me. I tossed throughout the night and finally, in the early hours of the morning, I could pretend no longer. I rose from bed and opened the curtains a bit. It was still dark, only a sliver of light peeked from the horizon.

I dressed quickly, opting for my blue dress. It was not the prettiest of my dresses, but I was planning on a walk to town and did not want to soil a nicer one. My hat in hand, I picked up Mr. Northman's letter from where it had fallen in my haste to undress the night before. I also retrieved a letter to Jason that I had written yesterday evening.

I left the room and paused in the hallway. The house was quiet and I breathed a sigh of relief as I began to descend the stairs, but stopped when a door creaked behind me.

"Sookie is that you?" I climbed back up to find Amelia's whisper came from the small opening of her door. When her she spotted that it was, indeed, me, she opened the door and pulled me inside. She was still in her shift and dressing gown but she looked wide awake.

"What is wrong, Amelia? Why are you up so early?" Perhaps I should be asking myself the same question.

"Last night, your Gran mentioned that you would be off to town this morning. I did not want to miss your leaving."

"Did you wish to accompany me?" As soon as I asked I realized that I was most likely wrong, she was not even dressed.

"No. Octavia would never allow me into town without her to watch me. She's completely paranoid that I will try to contact my love and give him word of my location." She must have seen the skeptical look in my eyes because she giggled and continued. "Well yes, alright, she should be worried. I have a letter for you to take to the post."

She handed over her letter with a smile and I added it to my rapidly growing stack of correspondence. I reassured her that I would see it safely into the hands of the post boy and she hugged me before letting me leave and finally made my way down the stairs. In the kitchen, Anne was lighting the fire. I bid her a good morning and told her my plans for the morning before making my escape to the courtyard and through the stables, choosing to take a short cut through the country rather than following the road.

The sky was beginning to lighten, but I would know the way even in the darkest of nights. Jason and I had often come to town to visit other children when we were younger. We had been novel additions to the small village when we had arrived so suddenly. It had made us quite the commodity with the local children, but I had not formed as many attachments as Jason, who was so naturally charismatic.

Even back then I had preferred the quiet. It had taken years to build the shields that protected my mind from the thoughts of others, and they were still not perfected. Case in point: Mr. Northman. How had I been so careless to let his mind invade my own? What seemed to be a better question was why I had become so casual with him in general. I had called him Eric. I should not have done that, even if he had asked me. The man made my skin crawl, I did not want to form any kind of familiarity with him…did I? No. No, I did not.

With my mind so occupied by blue eyes and warm (albeit wounded) chests, the walk to the village passed quickly. Upon reaching the streets of the town, the sky had lightened to the usual morning shade of grey and shops were open for business. Asking around, I found that the post boy could easily be presumed to be at the public house. This news was unwelcome. The minds of the men in that building were by far the most vile and unwelcome as I came upon, I knew this from years of seeking out Jason there.

I slowly made my way towards the familiar building and entered the establishment cautiously. It was dim inside and being so early, there were very few patrons. In fact, only one. However it was not the customer that caught my eye, it was the owner.

"Samuel!" I greeted my friend brightly. He stood behind the counter, he sleeves rolled up, replacing mugs on the shelf. When he heard my greeting, his face snapped up to meet mine, his strawberry hair falling into his face. His eyes lit up at my appearance.

"Sookie, it's good to see you. In for a drink?" Samuel smiled, knowing full well that I was not here for a drink.

"Not likely. I have some letters for the post. I hoped for them to go out today." My voice betrayed my disappointment as I gazed back at the drunk in the corner. He was unconscious and would likely remain that way for some time.

"Don't worry, I'll wake Bellefleur when it's time for him to ride out." He gave me a reassuring smile and continued to put away mugs. "It's lucky for me that you ventured to town this morning. I was asked to make a trip out to the inn this afternoon. Now I'll have some company for the walk."

Samuel often delivered ale and goods from his farm to our Inn, so I was not too surprised at the news. I smiled kindly at the compliment to my company and sat on a stool. We visited for a while, talking about his farm and how well it was doing. In truth, it was Gran who had set Samuel up so well. His farm had once belonged to Gran's family, but when she could no longer see to its care, she had sold it to Samuel (who had been a close friend of our family) for a very cheap price. Now, the farm supplied the grain for his small brewery, which supplied his pub.

Time passed quickly and soon enough, Samuel was waking Mr. Bellefleur. The man seemed disoriented at first but at Sam's urging, he finally stood and grabbed his bag from off the chair. He steadied himself for a moment before heading for the door. As he passed, I held out the letters for him. He stopped, looking at my outstretched hand for several moments before taking them from me. He glanced quickly at each one, though I was surprised he could read anything through the thick of his graying hair that hung over his face.

"America with take a while. But this one should reach Bath tomorrow. London, the day after that." He stuffed the letters into his bag and I thanked him before he left.

"Is he reliable?" I asked Samuel after Mr. Bellefleur had left.

"Yes. He came back from the war a bit mad, but he'll see to his job. Haven't heard of any complaints yet." He motioned for me to stay where I was as he disappeared into the store room behind the bar. A few moments later he emerged with a small cask over his shoulder and large sack in his hand.

"Lafayette will see to the pub today. Shall we?" he nodded towards the door and I opened it for him to pass, taking the sack from him as he did. We started out of town together, the streets much busier than they had been on my first pass.

"What is it?" I asked, looking down to the sack I cradled in my arms.

"A ham," he answered. He avoided looking at me and did not expand. Samuel was usually very open with me, and I began to worry what he was hiding. Though it shamed me to do so, I carefully dropped my shields to glimpse at his thoughts. I stopped in my tracks, astounded by the images that had seeped into my thought.

"Oh Sam, you didn't." He did not respond, only kept walking straight ahead. I took a moment to collect myself before running to catch up.

"Not Lancelot, Sam." I did not want to cry in front of Sam for the sake of a pig, but it was looking as if I might have to.

"It was his time, Sookie." His voice was not as soft as I would have hoped.

"He was my favorite." I sniffled and glared at Samuel when he chuckled at my confession. My anger only entertained him further and he pulled me into his side, his spare arm over my shoulder, comforting me as I shed a few tears for the swine knight. We were silent the rest of the walk, and I did not make to move from under his warm embrace.

It was afternoon before we arrived at the inn. We passed without incident through the stables and went directly to the kitchen. Gran was finishing a batch of rolls to bake and Anne looked to be preparing a pudding.

"Sookie, there you are. And you've brought Sam!" She stood and embraced him as soon as he had set down the cask.

"I was not expecting you until tonight, and I certainly was not expecting this!" She laughed as she opened the ham and gave it a quick examination.

"You did not specify a time. And the ham is a gift. You always told me that I should never come to court a girl without a gift." He replied.

I had been warming my hands by the fire, but I froze at his words. I had often suspected that Samuel cared for me, admittedly I cared for him as well, but he had never formally announced his intentions. I turned to see Gran looking at me, equally caught off guard by his statement.

"Oh," she finally spoke, "and…are you presenting yourself as a suitor this afternoon?" Her words were chosen carefully, but once they were spoken there seemed a deafening silence in the room. I could not even move.

"I thought my intentions were clear." He stepped around the table, coming closer to Gran and myself. "My heart has always belonged to you, Adele."

There was a smile in his voice and he immediately began to laugh, Gran soon joined in. I took a breath to steady myself before turning back to the rest of the kitchen. I took a seat at the table. Anne seemed hard at work cleaning up, but gave me a secret wink when I glanced up at her. It seemed we were both aware that I had narrowly escaped an unpleasant situation.

"Well, Sam, your offer is quiet flattering but I shall have to wait to taste the ham before committing to you." Gran and Samuel were continuing to chuckle at what would surely be a running joke.

"I've brought you whiskey as well. In case the ham was not enough to ply you." He nudged the cask with his foot to emphasize his point.

"Oh, would you take that into the dining room, dear? It'll be easier to serve in there." Gran pointed to the door to the dining room and Sam quickly obliged her request.

"Am I missing something, Gran? Why has Sam come with whiskey and ham?" Though his presence was not unusual, his gifts were a bit more than we were used to.

"It's Mr. Norris's birthday. Have you not heard? I've arranged a bit of a celebration for dinner." This was surprising news. Even a small celebration would have been big news at the inn, surely Mr. Compton and Anne would have been talking about it, let alone Mr. Norris. Though as I thought on it, my mind had been elsewhere the last couple of days; occupied with thoughts of blue eyes and strong jaws.

"I did not know. But I'm glad we're celebrating, I like Mr. Norris very much." I stood and smiled at Gran as I left the kitchen. Mr. Norris sat in the dining room with Mr. Felton and had appeared to have dragged Sam into his conversation as well. Fearing the same fate, I quickly passed, giving them no time to offer me an invitation to join them. I snuck up the stairs and popped into the first room on the right, the door being conveniently left open.

Amelia sat at the widow, looking out at the road that led from the highway.

"The letter has only just been sent, I doubt he has received it yet, let alone left to find you." I smiled as I sat on the foot of the bed.

"I know," she spoke without turning to me, "but part of me hopes that he can sense where I am and come to me. Perhaps follow my scent?" she turned back to me with a wistful look.

"How could he not? Your Parisian perfume is quite distinct." We both giggled and she stood to come and sit by me, her head resting on my shoulder. "I have good news though. It's Mr. Norris's birthday. Gran has planned a small party."

Barely had the words left my mouth before Amelia had shot up from the bed and began to flit around the room.

"Oh, Sookie, this is great news. Will there be music? Dancing?" She had kneeled down in front of her trunk and was sorting through the contents, not even looking up to speak.

"I suppose it's possible. I believe Mr. Felton plays the fiddle. I'm sure he would play if you asked him." As hard as it was to say 'no' to Mr. Norris, it was even more impossible to say it to Amelia.

"Ah ha!" Amelia stood up quickly and turned to display her find.

"Oh Amelia, it is a lovely dress. You will be the most beautiful attendant at the party, by far." I was not lying, the dress was beautiful.

"That may be so, but I will not be wearing this dress. You, however, will be." Her smile took on a mischievous glint and I felt as if I had fallen into some kind of trap.

"I cannot borrow your gowns, Amelia." I was not rich, though nor was I poor, and I had never accepted charity.

"I'm not offering a loan. Let it be a gift for the service you're performed for me just this morning." She saw that I was about to argue and shushed me with a glare. "Father sent this for me, but I've never been able to wear it. The blue is too fair for my skin, but it will look perfect on you. Besides, how will I run away to America with such a heavy trunk. I need to lighten it."

I opened my mouth to respond when she interrupted me again.

"Be warned: If you refuse, I shall be deeply hurt and sulk for days." Her eyes had lost all of the joy they held only moments ago and I silently cursed her ability to look so hopeless. I nodded my acceptance and she squealed with joy.

The next hour was spent at the mercy of Amelia. She tied and laced and pinned me into the dress and arranged my hair into a curled and piled style that I had never learned to master. When her work was done, she took a step back and examined me.

"You look beautiful." She gave me a mirror and I examined my hair and dress. The bodice and overskirt were a matching blue silk with a pattern of cream flowers and the skirt was open to reveal a textured petticoat of deep red. It was the finest dress I had ever worn, and I loved it. As I ran my hands over the soft fabric, Amelia slipped herself into her own dress.

Compared to her gold silk gown, bows all down the bodice with ruching and lace at ever edge, it was easy to see why she had never worn my new dress, it was not nearly dramatic enough for her taste. I suddenly felt much more at ease about accepting the gift, a dress like this should be worn, not folded in the bottom of a trunk.

We chatted as she dressed and I watched with curiosity as she powdered her hair and applied makeup that I was not familiar with. I occupied myself fidgeting with the gown. The neckline was lower than I was used to. Though I knew it was the style, I blushed a bit to see how much of my endowments were on display. The dress had been meant to fit Amelia, who was not nearly as developed as I. She noticed my discomfort and teased me a bit, though all in good fun.

When she was ready, it was nearly time for dinner. She slipped her arm though mine and we descended the stairs together. There were several voices coming from the dining room and we entered to find most of the house busying themselves with preparing the room. Amelia's footman and driver were helping Mr. Compton move the tables together to create a large one that everyone could sit at. Sam came out of the kitchen, led by Anne, and helped her set down plates, mugs, and glasses for everyone. Amelia was called to the side by Octavia and it was clear she meant her to stay out of the way until she could take her seat. I went into the kitchen to ask Gran what I could help with. She glanced questioningly at the dress.

"Amelia," was all I answered. Gran smiled and handed me the ham. I carried it out the table and went back for another dish. Soon, all of the food had been moved to the table and everyone was called to dinner. Amelia instinctively grabbed for my hand and pulled me into the seat next to her. Mr. Norris sat at the head of the table with Gran at the other end. The rest scattered about on both sides, with Sam directly across from me and Mr. Compton at my other side.

Conversation flowed as easily as the wine and ale. Dishes were passed and all plates were filled with food within a couple of minutes. I was telling Amelia about my poor friend Lancelot when a hush fell over the table. I followed Amelia's eyes over my shoulder to see that Mr. Northman had entered the room. He had stopped when all eyes had moved to him, though he did not seem uncomfortable as much as confused as to why his presence had caused such silence.

"Good evening, Mr. Northman. It's Mr. Norris's birthday so we're having a bit of a feast. Please, join us." Gran had spoken warmly to Mr. Northman and he tilted his head in her direction, silently taking his seat. The scattered clinking of forks against plates cut the silence and soon, conversation started again, filling the room with a mild din.

"How dare a man so beautiful hide away in his room so long." Amelia whispered in my ear. I turned towards her, rolling my eyes for her benefit.

"The man is infuriating. I hope he returns to his room directly after dinner." I picked at a piece of ham and popped it into my mouth.

"You've met him! Sookie I'm hurt. Why wouldn't you tell me about him?" She didn't sound as dejected as she claimed and kept glancing at him down the table.

"Amelia, I have spoken to him twice, and he angered me both times. He has insulted my intelligence and tried his best to make me uncomfortable. I dare say he succeeded. The way he looks at me makes me nervous. "

"I know what you're talking about. It's one of my favorites, I get the look often. It's very self satisfactory. Like a hunter would have just before taking his shot."

"Yes exactly. I feel like he's going to shoot me and mount my head on the wall." I poured more wine into mine and Amelia's glasses and took a sip.

"I couldn't agree more. I believe he wants to mount you." She calmly took a sip of wine as I choked and coughed, shocked at her meaning.

"Dear, are you alright?" Gran called from down the table. My fit had attracted her attention and after voicing her concern, the rest of the table turned to me as well. I still could not speak but Amelia answered for me.

"She is fine, Mrs. Stackhouse. Sookie just can't hold her wine." I glared up at her, but Gran must have been reassured as she started her conversation back up. When I finally was recovered, I looked up to find two blue eyes smirking in my direction.

Dinner was a success. Gran and Anne had outdone themselves and I felt awful that I had not helped, I knew that it must have been a lot of work. I helped to clear the dishes, staying far away from Mr. Northman's end of the table. When I came back from the kitchen, Sam was serving the whiskey, filling Mr. Norris's glass extra full. Amelia was pouting to Mr. Felton who looked to be wearing down rapidly. As I expected, only a few moments passed before he left the room and Amelia danced in my direction with a winning smile.

"Mr. Felton has agreed to play for us." She informed me.

"I had guessed as much. You really are force to be reckoned with. Before you're arrival, I would never have imagine Mr. Felton to be talked into anything." As I spoke, Mr. Felton came back to the room with his fiddle.

"Mr. Calvin Norris," Mr. Felton's voice silenced the room. I, like the rest of the room, was rarely ever graced with its resonance. "For many years you have been a loyal friend and constant companion…as much as I tried to discourage it. For your birthday, I would wish to provide as much amusement as you have provided for me. However, to do so, I would require a full orchestra and chorus. So, regrettably , I must offer my own lesser talents. Only for you, my old friend, would I submit myself to this. Happy Birthday, and many more to come."

I was shocked to silence. Mr. Felton had given a speech; and an honest and open one at that. Mr. Norris seemed as shocked as I did; I believe I even heard a bit of a chuckle from him. But the room was instantly filled will a merry song that flowed from Mr. Felton's bow. Mr. Norris did not waste any time. He instantly made his way to Amelia, who accepted his offered hand and began to dance. After giving the honored guest the floor for a few moments, Samuel took my hand and led me to the floor as well. We were shortly followed by Gran and Mr. Compton. George, Amelia's driver, tried to tempt Mrs. Fant, but she graciously opted to sit and drink her wine.

"You look beautiful, Sookie." Sam smiled down at me as we danced around the room.

"Amelia could not be stopped, though I did try to fight her off." He laughed deeply at my joke and pulled me a bit closer as we made a turn.

"You look beautiful every day." His voice was lower and the humor was gone. I did not want to raise my eyes to his, I did not want to see what I knew was there. His hands were firm on my back and my hand, as if pressing me to look up and to accept him.

Unexpectedly, it was Mr. Felton for whom my heart belonged at that moment. The song ended and I was eternally grateful to him. I stepped back from Sam and turned to clap for Mr. Felton. In the corner of my eye, I saw Mr. Compton headed in my direction and started walking away under the pretence of getting another glass of wine. Mr. Felton began to play again and Amelia began to dance with Mr. Compton. I would have to thank her later.

Mr. Norris took a break from dancing for another drink, joining the congregation of men in the corner. I had assumed that Mr. Northman would head for the solitude of his room as soon as possible, but there he sat in the corner, mug in hand. He didn't see me glance at him, but Amelia did, and smirked at me as she passed with Mr. Compton.

The next dance was unavoidable, but the extra glass of wine had helped, and I was able to bare Mr. Compton's hands on me. He tried to make light conversation, but I pretended not to hear over the music. Again, Mr. Felton saved me by deciding to take a break. He joined Amelia and I at a table and we all tried some of Sam's whiskey. Mr. Norris would not do without entertainment for long and George offered to take up the fiddle for Mr. Felton, who agreed to loan out his instrument. Mr. Norris was finally able to tempt Mrs. Fant to dance and Amelia could not have been more thrilled.

"Mr. Felton, what do you think of our mysterious friend Mr. Northman?" I knew that Amelia could not go for long without gossip, but I was surprised at Amelia's choice of victim. Though it was Mr. Felton's response that was the greater surprise.

"I think he's a dead man." He said no more, but drank more of his whiskey, his face a mask.

"Is that a threat, Mr. Felton?" Amelia had sobered at the unexpected reply and was just as confused as I was.

"Not at all, Ms. Broadway. I know of a man by the name of Eric Northman, a man that matches the description of our friend. The only difference is that the Mr. Northman that I was aware of was thought to be dead." He still did not look at Amelia or me, but focused on his glass.

"You know Mr. Northman?" I asked cautiously.

"I knew of him. He had a reputation during the war." Neither Amelia nor I spoke, hoping he would continue. It was several minutes before he did. "I heard of an Eric Northman, a hessian, who was a fierce soldier; a grenadier. Though I believe he was more feared for his swordsmanship. Near the end of the war, his unit was being transferred a few hundred miles north by boat, but it was sunk by canons. The whole unit and crew were assumed dead. A great loss for us."

"A hessian? A hired soldier?" Amelia was the first to speak.

"Yes, hired from the German crown, and that's who all the money goes to. Hessian's weren't paid for their service like you think; if they had been, I know a lot of men who would have defected to Germany to be paid to fight." Mr. Felton laughed at the thought.

"Why do you think he never came forward? Why wouldn't he tell people that he was alive?" I asked, slightly shocked that Amelia was more concerned with his being a hessian.

"For some men, it's just easier to be dead." Mr. Felton pulled a pipe out of his jacket and lit it, effectively ending the conversation.

I glanced back to the corner, the tall frame impossible to miss. He was looking this time. He saw the questions in my eyes and with his own, challenged me to ask them.

**What? NO! Yup. Huh? ….idk.**

**Cliffy? Not really….maybe a little. Sorry. Hopefully the next chapter will be up faster, and hopefully we'll be getting a little deeper into this mess.**

**In the meantime…PLEASE REVIEW! I need to know if I'm making any major mistakes or if you're catching any plot errors. Fed up with typos? Let me know.**

**And thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed. You guys are super cool. Much cooler than people who don't read and review my stories.**


	4. An Unexpected Proposal

**What? A new chapter already? Yup, I'm just that nice. For those of you who haven't noticed, I've changed the rating from T to M. I'm sorry if that disappoints anybody. It wasn't my original intention and it's not just for the sake of this chapter. It's more of a shove that I'm giving myself. A challenge, if you will. Let's just hope I can earn it and not chicken out. In celebration of this decision, you're getting an itty bitty crumb of a lemon bar in the chapter. Enjoy it.**

Our eyes continued to meet. I would not be the one to break the contact. Mr. Felton had told me that this was a dead man, but I had seen him bleed. I would not be scared of him. My eyes challenged him and the corner of his lip rose to a ghost of a smirk, accepting. He would not look away from me, and I might have sat there all night were it not for Mr. Norris.

"My lovely Sookie! I am hurt that you refuse to dance with me on my birthday!" I smiled kindly up at the face of the old man that I had come to like so much. He had obviously been taking it upon himself to empty the cask of whiskey, and he looked to be well on his way. His cheeks were rosy and his smile easy as he tried to steady himself with a hand on the back of my chair.

"Of course I mean to dance with you, Mr. Norris. I was only waiting for my turn." I stood and looped my hand through his arm as he smiled triumphantly and led me to the open space, Amelia and Mr. Felton on our heels.

George was still playing and was admittedly very good, though the music was a very different kind to what Mr. Felton had played. Though I had heard only a little, the music seemed to have an Irish beat to it. It was faster and livelier, which I soon learned was a challenge for Mr. Norris. His steps were clumsy, but enthusiastic. I tried to lead him a bit, but was soon overcome with laughter at each of his missteps, though he did not notice. The man was trying so hard to follow Mr. Felton's choreography. I did not blame him, Mr. Felton moved gracefully and skillfully with Amelia, but it was a tad beyond Mr. Norris's current capabilities.

I became most worried when he tried to copy a more advanced move, spinning me so that he could lead me with my back to his chest. As I turned, I said a silent prayer that he would not hurt himself on his birthday. My worry intensified when he did not immediately take my extended hand, though my worry was uncalled for. He led me effortless for several more steps before turning me back to him as the song finished.

I made to congratulate him for making it through the entire song but the words caught in my throat as I turned to find that I was no longer dancing with Mr. Norris. I took a step back from Mr. Northman, intending to get away, but he would have none of it. His arm reached out, grabbing my waist and pulling back into his arms as George began a new song. I vaguely remembered how I had never liked anyone named George very much. I should have known this one would betray me.

Once I had caught my bearings, I allowed Mr. Northman to lead me, keeping as much distance between our bodies as possible. I was determined to not make a public scene by rejecting him. As I calmed, my mind began to spin, trying to take my attention from the fact that such a man had his hands on me. The problem was that it was that very thought that intrigued me. Mr. Felton's story had filled me with questions; questions I was determined to find the answer too. Having my hand in Mr. Northman's presented me with an opportunity, as my telepathic capabilities were strengthened by touch.

Did I dare lower my shields? The last time I had allowed such an invasion, I had been accosted with the most unpleasant and indecipherable thoughts. It was useless, I could not talk myself out of it at this point. I wanted to know all that I could about this man, and I had the power to find out. Following Mr. Felton's lead, Eric placed both his hands on my waist and lifted me into the air for half a turn. As he did, I dropped my shields.

My eyes snapped to his, though I did not fully see them. In his mind, the lift of the dance was much more scandalous. I saw myself, bare breasted, my head thrown back as a moan escaped my lips. My feet hit the ground again in reality and the image was gone. I tried to stay in step, but was still shocked. I had not been expecting that. Eric grasped my hand again and for a moment his hand held both of my wrists pinned above my head. It was not real, but it felt it. It was clear what he was thinking and feeling and it was pouring into me with an intensity I had not felt before, as if he was willing me to feel it with him. With every turn of the dance I saw him throw me onto a bed or against a wall. Every time his hand brushed my side it was running up my leg, pushing my skirt up past my knee. I could not stop it, I did not even know if I wanted to. His thoughts infected my own and I could no longer tell which were his…or which were mine.

It angered me. How dare he so easily affect me in such an inappropriate way? I did not wish to see more. I closed off the shields to my mind and set my jaw. Though I felt my blush remain, I would not betray my knowledge of him thoughts. I did not look at him for the rest of the song, staring right into the chest in front of me. Though he would not even allow me that. He jerked, pressing me close to him on the final step. My eyes snapped up at the sudden movement and his eyes burned into me. I wonder momentarily why he only seemed capable of burning me or freezing me with his stare. My train of thought was lost when he slowly lifted my hand up to his barely parted lips and brushed them against my knuckles, his eyes never leaving mine.

"Thank you for the dance, Sookie." He smirked before finally stepping back and releasing my hand. I was sure that the entire room was watching us, but when I turned, nearly everyone was otherwise occupied. However, our actions had not escaped the notice of Mr. Compton whose brow creased as his gazed flicked between myself and the tall frame that was making its way towards the door to the courtyard. I silently thanked God for the reprieve of his company, if only for a few moments.

I sat down at a table and watched as Amelia took Mrs. Fant's hand and guided the unsteady women out of the room and up the stairs. Anne had emerged from the kitchen when I had not noticed and was talking to Amelia's footman in the corner. Mr. Norris was talking animatedly to Mr. Felton and George, all of them with half empty glasses of whiskey. I smiled, knowing that Mr. Norris was enjoying his birthday.

"I should head home while I can still remember the way." Samuel had sat down and smiled sadly across at me.

"Are you sure? You could stay tonight if you wished. We could find a place for you." I did not like to think of Sam getting lost in the dark.

"Find a place for me here?" He spoke to himself, his eye cast down. He took a moment before finally looking back up to me with a grin. "Are you offering to share your bed?"

"Samuel! You're right, you should go home, you've obviously had enough to drink." I laughed at him as he finished off my glass of wine for me.

"Alright then, but you know I was only joking." I nodded and stood from the table with him.

"I'll walk you out." He nodded and took my arm, leading me into the courtyard. The night was cool and the wind had picked up a bit, catching at my skirt. We strolled leisurely into the stables and out the other side, the open country before us. Somewhere in the distance was our small town and Sam's home, but he did not move to seek them.

"Thank you for your generosity, Sam. I believe Mr. Norris thoroughly enjoyed his birthday." He smiled at me, his face nearly the same height as mine.

"It was my pleasure. It's been quite some time since this old inn has seen a good celebration."

"Well I'm glad you were here for it. You don't visit nearly enough." He ginned at the statement and looked at me as if contemplating something. "You know you're always welcome here. You're as much a brother to me as Jason, better even, as you've not left me."

His smile fell and he release a breath, the warmth clouding in the night air.

"I will try to visit more, but for tonight, I should be off." He leaned in and softly kissed my temple, so quick I was not ever sure he had done it. I quietly bid him a good night and watched as he walked into the night, slowly disappearing in the dark. When I could no longer see his distant outline, I turned and entered into the barn again. But my night was not yet over.

"Sookie." I snapped my eyes up from the floor to see Mr. Compton a few steps away from me.

"Mr. Compton, I thought you were still inside." I gestured to the inn. He shook his head and took a step closer.

"No. It's quieted a bit, and I wanted to take care of something." His words were directed at the floor, though I knew they were meant for me.

"Well, I hope you enjoyed yourself." I tried taking another step towards the door. I was hoping he would understand that I was trying to take my leave, but he matched my step with two, closing the distance between us even further.

"Sookie, I'm not a rich man." His eyes had finally found his way to mine and I cringed at the desperation in them. I laughed, trying to break the tension of the moment.

"I should hope not, Mr. Compton. If you were, your choice of hobbies would be quite unorthodox." I teased, looking around the stables to make my point.

"What I mean is, I don't have a lot to offer you." I looked away from his face, glancing at his hands and they twisted his cap in nervousness.

"You don't have to offer me anything, Mr. Compton." My words we panicked and small, I was not even sure if he could hear them.

"What I can offer you is my love. Love and undying devotion." His hand reached up to cup my cheek, forcing me to look at him. "Since the day I came here I have loved you, and it has grown every day since. For so long, the only thing I have wanted and prayed for is that you would return my love. I thought I would wait, give you time to know me better, but I cannot wait any longer after tonight. To see you in the arms of other men…it is more painful than I thought I could endure. I cannot bear to be without you any longer. I know I do not have a ring for you, but I will buy you every ring in England if you would only consent to be my wife."

As he finished, I tried to fight my instinct to simply run away until I was safe in my room. I had suspected that he had felt this way but I had not prepared myself for this offer. And standing there, I knew it was not an offer I could accept. I looked back up to him as he waited with a look of fear and hope on his face. I had never disliked Mr. Compton, and I knew that I would hate myself for hurting him, but I knew I had to.

"Mr. Compton, I am so sorry…" I trailed off, not sure what to say. What would hurt him the least? How could I possibly tell him that I was unable to return his feelings, I barely even knew him. I searched his eyes, hoping he would understand. He did.

"No, Sookie, I am the one that should be sorry. It has been a long night, I've had too many drinks. I spoke rashly. Forgive me." As he spoke the last two words, he spun on his heel and headed to the end of the stables where a door connected to living quarters for himself and any visiting help. It shut almost inaudibly behind him and I released the breath I had been holding. Suddenly so weak, I collapsed on the bench across from Amelia's favorite horse.

How could I be so cruel? I had denied a man who, from all that I had witnessed and heard, was decent and kind and seemed to genuinely care about me. What bothered me even more was the idea that I seemed unable to love such a man. How selfish could I be to assume that a better man would come along? I did not have the prospects of Amelia, or even some of the other girls of town. My strangeness was well known and I was often deemed a pariah because of it. I knew all of this, but I still could not bring myself to think I had answered Mr. Compton wrongly. I could not love him, and therefore, I could not marry him.

"Don't punish yourself. Only a fool would ask such a question without already knowing the answer." Mr. Northman stepped out of a stall a few feet away and closed the gate behind him, heading in my direction.

"How dare you not make your presence known before now!" My voice betrayed more of my anger than I had meant it too, but he seemed not to notice, leaning comfortably on the stall across from me.

"I thought it would be rude to interrupt such an intimate moment." His shoulders shrugged infinitesimally and he showed no remorse for his actions.

"It was far worse of you to eavesdrop." I was astounded that such an infuriating man even existed. I tried to calm myself, hoping that my blush would retreat, though I was not sure if it was Mr. Compton or Mr. Northman who had caused it. We shared a silence for several minutes and I had hoped the exchange was over and that he would leave me. Instead, he spoke again.

"You did the right thing. You deserve better." His words were soft, not the joking or arrogant tone that he had been using.

"Do not presume to know me or what I deserve!"

"You know nothing about me, yet you always seem to be angry at me. It seems you're a hypocrite as well as a heartbreaker." His eyebrow raised, challenging me.

"I apologize Mr. Northman, I'm afraid I don't know how to behave around the living dead." His face betrayed just a bit of shock before he masked it again, looking at me, calculating.

"I assume one of your friends was in the war." He watched my face carefully, looking for hints of anything else that I knew.

"Indeed. Mr. Felton was quite aware of your story. It's a bit clumsy of you to use your real name when it's attached to such a stigma."

"Only shamed men change their names and hide. I will do neither. I have earned my name and it has brought me far more allies than enemies." The force of his voice scarred me. He had straightened from his relaxed position and now stood looking down at me. I knew his anger was surely not directed at me, but I was curious to learn its origins. With that intention, I gave him several moments of silence to calm, which he finally did, taking up his previous position.

"'Northman' doesn't sound like any German name I've heard." I tried to hide the curiosity in my voice, wanting only to sound casual. Confusion clouded his features for a moment before they were lit again by amusement.

"You shouldn't believe everything you're told, Sookie. Not all Hessians are German." His smirk only served to anger me further. "I was actually living in France at the time. I was arrested as a thief, but it was cheaper for them to sell me into foreign military service than to hold me in prison."

"You're a thief?" I couldn't decide if I should be worried by this or proud that I had extracted the information.

"No. I said I was arrested as a thief. I was never given a trial."

"So you're innocent." I was disappointed to come to this conclusion, but Eric chuckled as my statement.

"I would not go that far." He crossed his arms and continued to chuckle. When he finally stopped, I could see that he was not going to elaborate, but I would not yet give up my hunt for information.

"How does a former resident of France turned non-German hessian that was killed in America, and is of unknown origin, end up at an Inn in the south of England?" I had leaned forward in my seat, the desire for answers too great to hide.

"My business is mine alone." His words were not harsh, merely factual. I was deflated, realizing that he would give me no more tonight. This thought was only accentuated when George and the footman stumbled into the barn, oblivious to our presence, and followed the path that Mr. Compton had taken earlier.

"I should go to bed. It must be very late," I said as I stood and began to leave. I stopped when I noticed that Mr. Northman was following and gave him a questioning look.

"What? Would you prefer I sleep with the horses?" He laughed. I did not answer him, but instead continued on my way, aware of his presence only a few steps behind me. I did not look back at him as I entered the Inn, passed through the dining room, and ascended the stairs. I did not even look back as I slowly made my way down the hall, carefully stepping over the boards that would creaked and cringing as my shadow hit each one gracelessly. I did not stop when I reached my door, opening it and slipping in quickly, but I was interrupted before I could close the door.

"You're just across the hall?" His whispered, realization dawning on his features.

"Yes. Is that a problem?"

"Not at all. It's nice to know you're so close if I should want you." I was amazed that his face stayed completely serious as he disappeared into his room, the door shutting quietly behind him.

I must have stood there for a full minute trying to decide if it was his intention for his statement to have such a double meaning, or if it was my own mind that sunk to those depths. The former thought made me shudder as I closed my door and began to unpin my hair.

Up until this point, I had been doing my best to forget the dance I had shared with him, but now I wondered just how much that had affected me. I had certainly heard similar thoughts from men at Sam's pub, but they had never tempted me, I had always been repulsed by them. I shook my head, convinced that it had been the wine. Had I kept a clear head, Eric's thoughts would have been just as vile as any other man's. That decided, I allowed myself to think of my second encounter with him this evening.

For every answer I learned, I seemed to develop ten more questions about the man. He was infuriating, always so cryptic and closed off. I would not let it deter me. I would uncover Mr. Northman's secrets, it was only a matter of time.

The satisfaction of that knowledge was more soothing than any lullaby, and I found sleep quickly and gladly.

**What? Did I fake you out? Did you think it was gonna be Sam? Did anyone think it would be Eric? Well…gotcha. Good ol' Bill popped the big question. I promise there's an actual plan in my head (and on paper), so I didn't just do it to fuck with you.**

**OMG you guys are awesome. Every single review alert gets me all excited. It makes me feel warm and fuzzy and special. I assume it's the same way a tickle-me-Elmo feels when it gets tickled. It's very gratifying… also addictive. So I'd appreciate it if you could give me a fix.**

**Yes. YOU. The one reading this. YOU should review. NOW.**

**Please.**

**Thank you.**


	5. A Brewing Storm

**I. Am. So. Sorry. I know it's been really long since I updated. And I'm sorry. I've been distracted. I'm sorry. But if it matters…I had a really fun staycation this weekend with my boyfriend. Have I mentioned that I'm sorry that it's been so long since I updated? No? I'm so sorry.**

**Disclaimer: Charlaine Harris owns SVM and therefore the inspiration for this story. If she was writing this, I'm sure she would have updated much faster. Obviously I am vastly inferior to her.**

Despite the late hour at which I had retired, I awoke too early in the morning. For the second day in a row, my window was dark as I rose from my bed and began to dress. I did not bother to light my lantern; I knew each nook of my room better with my hands and feet than I did with my eyes. I dressed slowly, despising the feel of my stay on my torso as if forced me to stand straight and tall. My own linen dresses seemed so plain and dull in comparison to Amelia's gift, but I knew that it was too precious to wear for a normal day. I ran my hands over the silk once more before laying it over the chair at my small desk and leaving the room.

As I expect, I was the first one up, even beating Anne this morning. I lit only the fire in the kitchen for warmth and light and set about cleaning up the remnants of the party. Glasses and a few plates were strewn about the dining room. I collected them as quietly as I could, moving at a snail's pace to avoid the clatter of rattled dishes. As I went back for my second trip, the stairs groaned under a great weight. I instinctively knew who it was and with two steps, was hidden in the darkness of the corner.

Mr. Northman moved slowly, careful not to knock into a table in the black room. He wore his long riding coat and hat, I could not see his face, though I did not need to. When he finally reached the door, he escaped silently into the courtyard. I set down my dishes and stepped into the kitchen, looking out through the window. I watched as he entered the barn and waited several minutes before he emerged again. He led his horse slowly across the courtyard in the direction of the highway. After a few minutes of sitting and listening, I convinced myself that I could just hear the clatter of his racing horse as he sped away from the inn.

With a great pain, I realized that I did not know if he would return.

As if the world was teasing me with silence, much of the house did not begin to wake for several hours. Only Anne kept me company for most of the morning. Slowly but surely, our guests filtered slowly into the dining room, asking for only tea or maybe a bit of bread for breakfast. Only Gran seemed to be immune, smiling and happily refilling cups.

Everyone seemed to regret their last drink the night before and old Mr. Norris did not leave his room until after lunch. When he did, the wind had begun to blow and he moaned every time a shutter snapped against the house. No one spoke above a whisper for fear of his glare. He frightened Anne so badly when he snapped at her that she excused herself to clean the rooms, which would allow her to disappear for several hours.

I felt bad for the girl, and decided to help her as she collected soiled linens from the rooms.

"It's not your fault Anne, Mr. Norris is just unwell today." I smiled kindly at her from across Amelia's bed as we stripped it.

"I saw how much he drank last night, I should have used more care when I sat down his dish. I should not have let it drop so loudly." She did not look up from her task as she spoke.

"He will have forgotten about it by this evening, until then, just stay clear of him." I gave her a kind smile and moved on to the next room. We worked faster separately collecting all of the linens and only a few minutes had passed before one room was left. I stood in front of Mr. Northman's room, hesitating. What if I entered to find all of his things gone? Would I be disappointed to learn that he had moved on? I had been too nervous to ask Gran about it, maybe also a bit scared. Though I could not explain why, I wanted him to come back.

I set two of my fingers on the knob, trying to will myself to accept either outcome. But I could not. I knew that I wanted answers from Mr. Northman. I wanted to know what had brought him here and why he had hidden his survival. But I also knew that this was not the extent of my desire to see him.

"Don't worry, he's not in there." Anne had emerged from Mr. Felton's room and was walking towards me.

"What?" I was still lost in my own thoughts.

"He's not here. He left early this morning." She informed me as she took the doorknob in her hand, brushing mine away, and opened it. She flitted past me and immediately set to work as I peeked cautiously into the room. Anne picked a shirt off of the bed and set it over the chair, I let go the breath I was holding and went in as well. It seemed he had plans to return.

Though Mr. Northman did not travel with many possessions, what little he had was scattered about the tiny room. His stockings were hung near the fire and a small shaving blade sat perched on the edge of his basin. The small cabinet next to his bed seemed crowded by the basin and pitcher, but it also seemed to fit a lantern and book, which had been laid in such a way to keep his place. A crumb sprinkled plate and empty goblet were abandoned on his tiny desk and his small bag hung formlessly on the arm of the chair. His sheets were thrown back to the foot of the small bed, some falling to the floor, only his pillow remaining on the bed. I forced my attention away from his bed and back to Anne as she set about removing his sheets.

"How did you know he wasn't here?" I asked casually. She stopped and looked up at me for a moment before getting back to work and answering.

"I saw him leave." So did I, I thought. But I had not seen her. I let go of my mental shields, curious of what she was not telling me. I instantly regretted the invasion of her privacy. Through short bursts of images, it was apparent that she had snuck into Amelia's footman's room last night and had seen Mr. Northman as she was leaving the stables this morning. A dull blush was apparent on her cheeks as she made her way to the door with her load.

"I'll just go fetch the fresh linens." She ducked past and quickly made her way down the stairs with her basket of laundry.

I took another step into the room, making it even more apparent how small it was. There was only enough spare room to navigate (very cautiously) around the furniture, which was sparse and small to begin with. I was suddenly curious how Mr. Northman fit in here. I imagined he must feel as if living in a doll house. I smiled at the thought. I ran my hand over the spine of his book, recognizing it instantly. It was the same book I had been reading when he had interrupted me the night before last.

It suddenly felt very wrong to be here. I was looking through Mr. Northman's things without his permission or knowledge, and Gran had taught me to behave better than that. I quickly left the room, taking his dirty dishes with me, trying to convince myself that I was serving some kind of purpose. After depositing them in the kitchen, with a smile to Gran, I went in search of Amelia. She would save me from my thoughts, if only by filling my mind with hers instead.

I found her in the parlor with her nose pressed against the window. It had begun to rain.

"If you were planning on a trip to town or the like, may I suggest you postpone until tomorrow?" I smiled as I sat next to her, resting my temple against the glass and shivering pleasantly at the sensation.

"I had no such plans, but I still feel as if the rain is ruining my day." She sighed, turning her face away from the scene that was playing out on the other side of the window. She seemed thoroughly depressed and I realized that her appearance seemed to be mimicking my own feelings. I figured one of us should be entertained and happy, so I laid myself on the sacrificial table, blade poised above my chest.

"Mr. Compton asked me to marry him last night." Swiftly, the blade plunged into my flesh and I began to bleed excitement all over Amelia's lap.

"The stable boy! What did you say?" Her face was nearly touching my own, though she seemed to be yelling at me, desperate for details.

"I began to refuse him, but he stopped me and withdrew the offer, claiming too much drink." I did not look at her, casting my eyes downward, still conflicted about the whole situation.

"That was best. It saves you embarrassing him. You could do much better than a poor stable boy."

"He is the stable master, and has a great deal of responsibility. And I believe he is an honest, good man. Besides, I do not have your options, Amelia. Or even your desires. I do not need a large house filled with servants and fine things. If I could just remain here I would be happy."

"But you would not actually consent to marry him, would you?" At this, Amelia drew my eyes up to hers and searched them with pity and sadness in her own.

"I do not believe I could marry anyone if I did not love them." She smiled at this and drew me into her arms.

"We are in very similar boats, you and I," she whispered into my ear before releasing all but my hands, clasping them loosely in her own. I smiled sadly at her but remained silent. For several minutes we sat listening to the rain pelt the windows. It grew much louder and the room darkened infinitesimally.

"I'm surprised Mr. Norris has not begun cursing the rain for being so violent." My head lay on Amelia's shoulder and I felt it bob with her silent laughter.

"He retired to his room not long after Anna dropped that plate in front of him. It was all too much for him." We both began to giggle at that and soon I was feeling much better, a weight having been lifted from my shoulders, and helped burdened by Amelia.

"I am sorry he is suffering, but at least I know he enjoyed his birthday."

"Oh, didn't we all!" Amelia chuckled, her face brightening with the memories of last night. "I think your Gran did splendidly with such short notice and few resources."

Suddenly her face sobered and she sat up straight, looking me square in the eye.

"Can you believe what we learned of Mr. Northman last night? I wish he would show himself today so that we might begin to put some of this together." She stared longingly at the stairs.

"He's not up there. He left for the day early this morning, before dawn." I paused a moment, contemplating if I should share the rest of my night. In the end, I knew that I trusted Amelia and her opinion. "I've also learned a bit that Mr. Felton did not know."

Amelia's mouth was agape, her eyes wide on me, silently begging me to continue.

"He is not a German as I assumed when Mr. Felton told us that he was a hessian. He told me himself that he was living in France when he was arrested and charged as a thief. Though he was never given a trial, and was somehow sold into foreign service."

"And how, pray tell, did you find this out?" Amelia was literally on the edge of her seat and scooted as close to me as the bench and her petticoats would allow. I sighed, thinking of the night before.

"He spoke with me after Mr. Compton had left and I was a bit out of sorts. I think he was trying to distract me." That last bit had only just occurred to me and sounded slightly like a question, but I was a bit more thankful to Mr. Northman for speaking to me then.

"This is remarkable. I wake up thinking that I had had a rather good night, and here you are telling me of proposals and mysterious conversations with gorgeous men. I'm jealous, and slightly offended that it took you twelve hours to tell me. Is there anything else you've learned of our mysterious rider?"

"He has an obscene imagination." The words had meant to be a thought, but my mouth had betrayed me, releasing them without my permission.

"And just what does that mean?" Amelia looked genuinely confused.

"I…when we were dancing, I got the distinct impression that he wished to be doing…other things…to me." I did not look at her face but knew that she would not allow me such a vague answer.

"Oh really? And what makes you think any of his desires were 'obscene'?"

"It was very clear. Every time he touched me, it was clear what he was thinking. It was quite vivid." I could see it clearly even now, and I knew my voice betrayed that I was no longer fully present in the room, but lost somewhere in my memories.

"Vivid? You sound as if you could see his very thoughts," she laughed.

"I could, Amelia. I can. I can hear people's thoughts." I spoke matter-of-factly. I could not even bring myself to feel surprised, only relieved. For so long I had hidden this fact from nearly everyone. But why? To be thought of as strange and secretive? To be outcast regardless? Amelia was a true friend, something I had never had before, and somehow my mind had known that I did not wish to lie to her.

I looked up to gage her reaction. I had expected confusion or fear, but was again surprised. Amelia was smiling mischievously off into space. She looked back to my face and her smile became more genuine.

"Well that is rather useful, isn't it?"

For the past several hours I had sat talking with Amelia. Though she often asked me a question about how my "gift" worked or how I had used it in the past, she spent an equal amount of time entertaining me with stories of her time in France. Though as the day grew later, it became more and more impossible to ignore the storm that raged outside the walls. The wind howled as it blew overhead and what little made it in through cracks and crannies whined ominously.

Gran asked Mr. Compton and George to close and latch the shutters, fearing that it would only get worse. And it did. Soon, flashes of lightening broke in through the edges of the shutters and the dishes shook when thunder instantly followed. Gran let all the fires go out, closing the dampers so the wind would not pull the heat out of the house through the chimneys. With everything shut up so tight, the house seemed quiet and dead. Mr. Norris would usually supply us with some merry story but he had still not emerged from his room. I was uneasy.

Gran served dinner as usual in the lantern-lit dining room, but no one offered much conversation. It was somber and unusual and everyone escaped quickly to their own rooms. I imagined most would be seeking shelter under their covers, but my mind was far too active. So I sat alone in the dining room contemplating something rather dangerous. Eric.

I did not know where he was. He did not take anything with him, so I reasoned that he had planned to return tonight. I did not know if he had been caught in the storm or if he had found shelter at some unknown destination, but I was entirely too worried. What if he was lost in the storm? Or maybe someone from his past had learned that he was here and had somehow attacked him on the road? Or maybe he had found his way to town and the pub and now Sam was telling him ridiculous stories of my childhood? Or maybe…

The door flew open and was instantly closed by a soaking figure leaning against it. A very tall soaking figure in a riding coat and hat. His shoulders slowly rose and fell suddenly with the weight of a great sigh leaving his body. He then stood up straight and dashed up the stairs. A few seconds later, a door closed at the end of the upstairs hall.

What an infuriating man. He did not even bid me good evening. And he dripped water all over the house!

"It would serve him right to catch cold." I spoke quietly to myself. As soon as the words had left my mouth I balked at my own maliciousness. If Gran had heard that she would have scolded me. Instead I scolded myself. To make amends for my unknown cruelty, I climbed the stairs with a peace offering in hand. I tried to be quiet, knowing most people had already retired, or were at least seeking a bit of solitude. I cringed at the volume of my own knock and waited patiently for the door to be opened. Which it was.

"Good evening, Mr. Nor…oh...oh my." I tried to turn away from the sight in front of me, stepping but not knowing where to go with my hands so full and my intent obvious. I tried to shield my eyes behind my bundle but it did not seem sufficient.

"Good evening, Sookie. How can I help you?" His casual tone shocked me and I'm sure my face showed it. How could he do that? How could he be so cordial and natural? He was standing in front of me with not a stitch of clothing on his body. I was thankful that he had at least taken the effort to haphazardly wrap a quilt around his waist, though it was only held there by his right hand bunched into the fabric at his hip.

"I…I've obviously caught you at a bad time. I'll come back." Before I could escape, he stopped me.

"Sookie, all of my clothes are soaked and the fires are out. I doubt I'll be decent for a day or more. If you need something, you might as well tell me now." He sounded amused, but I wasn't about to check his expression to confirm that.

"Yes, I…I know you were wet. I brought you an extra quilt and some hot…ah…well…warm tea." I was still looking away but help out my burden in his direction.

"That was very thoughtful, Sookie. Thank you." Several moments passed in which nothing was said and my arms remained loaded. I peaked over in his direction, careful not to examine his undress too closely. He had stepped out of the doorway and had pushed the door completely open. He made a gesture for me to pass.

"Oh, no. I think you had better take it."

"Sookie, I doubt that you would want me to try to balance your tea service on one arm, and I doubt even further that you would want me to use both." He glanced down at the hand supporting his makeshift outfit, my eyes followed his.

"Yes, I believe you're right." I stepped quickly into the room, going straight to the desk and setting down the tea. I slipped the blanket out from underneath it and tossed it onto the bed and made my way for the door. Again, he stopped me before I could leave.

"Did Bill bother you today?" I was initially angered by his audacity to approach such a topic, but was stopped when I saw the genuine concern in his eyes.

"No. I have not seen him since last night." He nodded, apparently pleased by my response and passed me to get a cup of tea, brushing closely against me in his cramped quarters. "I want to thank you for speaking with me last night, it helped, made me feel a bit more human."

"Well I would have had to pass right by you to leave, seemed like it would have been rude to ignore you." He smirked at me, and I appreciated his levity. "Though I was surprised you seemed so unprepared for his offer."

"What is that supposed to mean?" I did not like the turn the conversation had taken.

"Only that a girl like you should be used to unsolicited offers by now."

"I'm unsure of what kind of girl you think I am, but that was my first marriage proposal. I apologize if I seemed a bit 'unprepared'. It is really none of your business to being with." I scoffed at his implications about my character…or would it be my reputation?

"That surprises me. I would have thought that by now you would have had more than that." He seemed legitimately contemplative, which only angered me further.

"Well you are obviously an expert on proposals. Tell me, Mr. Northman, how many times have you proposed?"

"None, actually. So it seems your criticism of me is finally warranted."

"That does not surprise me. You behave as if you have no experience with polite society let alone of that with women."

"Oh I have had plenty of experiences with women."

"Yes, but did any of said experiences not find their genesis in your breeches?"

"Yes, actually. I was practically raised by my older sister. She taught me a lot about woman and how to treat them." His tone was no longer teasing, it caught me off guard. "I apologize. Did you wish to continue arguing about trite little things?"

"No. I am sorry." My cheeks burned with embarrassment at having once again been so easily excited by this man. "But you are rather infuriating sometimes."

He laughed at this and I smiled, glad that he was not offended by what I had said, even if some of his comments still stung a bit. What kind of girl did he think I was?

"I know. Pam would even agree with you. In fact, I think she would probably like you, which is saying a great deal about your company."

"Well if she is the one responsible for you then I'm afraid I would have some unkind words for her. What kind of man steals a poor country girl's favorite book?"

"What kind of poor country girl goes snooping in a strange man's room?" He sipped again at his tea, satisfaction evident on his face. I blushed and stepped to the door, which had been left half-open.

"Good night Mr. Northman." I pulled the door closed behind me, but before it could shut completely there was an unmistakable sound of a great deal of fabric falling to the floor. I smiled as I crossed the hall to my own room, finally ready for bed.

**Dun Dun Duh!**

**Ok, so it's not a cliff hanger. It's more of a transition chapter, which is why it took me so long to write it. I just want me some good action!**

**Question: Does anyone else feel like you're cheating on Eric every time you watch a Thor preview?**

**Ok, so if you guys are still with me, would you drop me a quick review? I'm especially interested in any comments about my writing style (though comments about the story are always welcome!) since I am trying to do some original work.**

**Also, I'm curious about something. Everyone on here seems to know that Pam's last name is Ravenscroft…but it's different on True Blood, and I don't remember ever reading that in the books. Where did "Ravenscroft" come from?**

**Thank You so much to everyone who reads and/or reviews!**


	6. The CleanUp and The Mess

**Wow. So, if any of you are curious about my non-fanfic life, you're about to hit the jackpot. I just had a very productive day, and I'm going to brag about it. First off, my mother paid me to spend the entirety of my day doing the laundry that she had accumulated over 3weeks. Fine with me, I'm unemployed. Second, I submitted an original short story to the 80****th**** annual Writer's Digest writing competition. Go me. Third, somehow, without even asking, I managed to score myself a 4 day trip to Hawaii to soak up the sun with my sister…and I'm not paying for it. Fourth, I did some more work on my original novel. It's coming along nicely, thank you for asking. Fifth, I wrote the longest chapter yet for you guys. I must say, I impress even myself sometimes. Although, fair warning, I did not edit the chapter as closely as I usually do, I just wanted to get it up for you guys. (Tee Hee Hee…pun?...I think so.) If you guys tell me it's atrociously full of errors, I'll revise and replace it tomorrow.**

**And I'm in a fabulous mood. So I'm giving you a challenge. If I get 20 reviews for this story by…oh…the end of Friday, I'll give you a prize. Let's say….at least a teaser chapter (if not a full one) posted by Monday. Yeah, if you're doing the math, that's super fast updating by my standards. **

**But before you get your hopes up for that, why not try this chapter on for size…**

I did not sleep as easily as I thought I would. Several times in the night I was jarred awake by a crash in the courtyard or the gust of a particularly violent wind. Though I was beginning to be thankful for the disturbances. The storm had revived horrible thoughts of the night my parents had died in a similar storm. My nightmares seemed almost lucid, as if I could truly reach out and grasp my mother's hand as she tried to pull herself to safety. It was a torture only I could create for myself. I had not been there when it had happened, but now I saw it so clearly. I called out to them, running as fast as I could to try and stop them from crossing the old bridge. They could not hear me. Just as they reached the center of the bridge, a log carried by the current slammed into one of the supports and it instantly collapsed into the water.

I ran for the shore of the river, much higher than I had ever seen it, and reached out for my mother. She tried to swim but could not keep her head above the water for long. I knew it was most likely her dress that weighed her down and I screamed at her to try harder, to reach for me. Father was doing the same. He was holding onto a piece of debris and holding his hand to her, but she could not see it. She disappeared completely under the water and father let go of his tiny raft, diving down to save her…but neither of them surfaced again.

I screamed, refusing to let them go. I dove into the water and searched for any sign of them, though I could see so little in the dark water. Finally, I felt a hand brush against my arm and I held tight to it as I kicked for the surface. I pulled them up with me, and dragged them to the muddy shore. I dug my feet into the soft ground and pulled at their shoulders, determined to get them out of the water. When my chore was finally done, I lay them down on the ground next to me and kneeled over them to see their face, brushing their hair away. But it was not the face of my mother or my father. Staring up at me were the calm ice blue eyes of a mysterious rider.

"Eric," I said, "you're alive."

He lips slowly turned upwards creating a smile that looked so foreign on his face.

"No. I'm a dead man."

My eyes opened slowly, and my hand reached up to sweep away the moisture that was there, though I was not sure if it was sweat or tears. I turned my head into my pillow, letting out a shuddering breath and trying so hard to cast the images of my dream from my mind. I did not want them.

I peeked at my window, relieved to see bits of sun poking through the shutters. Sitting up, I listened to the quiet that informed me that the storm was, in fact, over. I dressed quickly and opened my shutters to let the light in more fully, wincing at its intensity. The courtyard below was alive. Anne had one of several loose chickens cornered and was about to pounce. Gran was sweeping up great piles of straw that had been blown from the roof of the stables. I could see great holes where thatching should be and grimaced at the damage the storm had inflicted.

Knowing I was needed, I quickly made my way downstairs and shoved a bit of toast in my mouth on my way to the courtyard. Gran saw me and stopped her sweeping to give me a hug.

"It's not so bad, we should have most of it sorted by the end of the day." She was trying to comfort me, and not because of the damage. I often had nightmares during storms, and apparently Gran could see the images that lingered behind my eyes.

"What can I do?" I smiled reassuringly and squeezed her hand.

"Well Mr. Compton is off trying to reign in one of Ms. Broadway's horses, but the rest of the boys are up top trying to assess the damage on the roof. Would you take them some water? They've been up there quite a while." I nodded at her request and began to draw a bucket up from the well set into the center of the courtyard. When it was up, I brought a mug from the kitchen and made my way into the stables.

As I reached the latter that led into the loft, I wrapped the bucket's rope handle over my shoulder and began to climb, trying to keep my movements still so as not to slosh the water. At the top, I could hear several voices at the other end. I made my way along, sidestepping all of the spare straw that had been stored up here, making my way to the voices. George and the footman stood with their head through the holes in the roof. I could see George gesturing widely with his hands and speaking to the footman about the damage. I hopped they knew something about thatching. What I had not expected to see was Mr. Northman. He was working steadily at moving a pile of straw to provide access to one of the damaged areas. He must have heard me approaching and stopped his work, turning to face me. The other's had not yet registered my presence.

"Good Morning Mr. Northman. Gran sent me with water." I held out the full mug to him and he accepted it with a thank you and drank it all before offering me the mug back. Astounded, yet again, at his manners, I watched as he removed his shirt and used it to wipe away the sweat that had accumulated on his face. He took a couple steps closer to me and spoke in a low tone.

"Are you well today, Sookie?"I was a little shocked at his question, and the seriousness behind it.

"Of course I'm well. Why do you ask?"

"I'm just across the hall from you. I could hear you. Last night, and again this morning, you sounded…upset." His eyes were boring into mine and he reached up, tucking a stray piece of my hair behind my ear.

"I'm fine. It was only the storm. It unsettles me and rekindles memories I would prefer to keep tucked away…the dreams are a bit too vivid. I'm sorry if I disturbed you." I looked away, ashamed at my inability to bare the nightmares in silence.

"There is no need to apologize, Sookie. I understand exactly what you mean." His eyes darkened just a bit. I should have known that he too would have night mares. He had been in the war, after all.

"Then I am sorry for your pain as well, Eric." We stood there in silence, him staring into me as I fidgeted under the pressure. Finally I realized why I was so surprised to see him this morning. My features must have changed because he looked at me curiously.

"I must say I'm surprised to see you out this morning. It was my understanding you had no wearable clothes…that you 'wouldn't be decent for days'." I raised my eyebrow, taking a page out of his book.

"Ah, yes." He chuckled slightly, looking down to the shirt in his hand. "I completely forgot I packed a spare pair. Found them this morning as I was rummaging in my bag." He was an excellent liar, but I didn't believe him for a moment.

"You would I think I would have become accustomed to your lack of decorum. You really are barbaric, Mr. Northman."

"I've been given many names and several titles…but I believe that may be my new favorite," he smirked.

"Ms. Stackhouse! Good Morning!" George had climbed down from his post and walked towards me, sweeping bits of straw off of his shirt.

"Good Morning, Sir. Thank you for helping with the roof, I've brought you some water for your trouble."

"Thank you, ma'am. Seems rather strange how warm it is after such a storm." He smiled jovially as he gulped down some of the water. Eric disappeared without another word, heading for the latter.

I chatted with George and the footman, whose name I learned was Liam. George bragged that he had thatched his brother-in-law's barn just last year, so I was further convinced that we were in good hands. I left them to get back to work, setting down the water so they could help themselves. I made my way back down to the stables and could hear Anne yelling in frustration and a particularly spry chicken. I giggled as I made my way to help her. I had almost made it to the door of the barn when I was suddenly grabbed around the waist and pulled into one of the empty stalls. I was thrown to the ground and pushed against the wall. A huge hand covered my mouth and I fought for my freedom for only a moment until I saw Eric smirk at me as he silently shut the door to the stall. His actions suggested that I should be terrified, though that smirk was one shared between cohorts. He had devised some kind of mischief and it appeared I was to be in on it.

He kneeled in front of me, still smirking, and held a finger over his lips, asking me to keep quiet. I nodded and his hand left my mouth. I noticed only after it was gone how warm it had been. He looked away from me, glancing at the closed stall door, his ears perked. I could hear hooves, getting closer every moment. They finally entered the barn from the direction of the pasture and approached us.

"Yes, I bet you're quiet pleased with yourself. Eluded me for several hours, you did." Mr. Compton spoke. I assumed he was addressing the horse that he sounded to be leading. I cringed at the sound of the voice and suddenly realized what had just happened. Had I not been pulled into this stall, I would have been confronted with the returning Mr. Compton. It would have been the first time I had seen him since his proposal, something I was still not ready to face. I looked back to Eric, who was now staring at me, and mouthed a silent 'thank you'. He tipped his head in return. The smile dropped from my face when I realized just how close Eric and I were. I sat flat on my backside where he'd thrown me, and he kneeled just between my feet. My breath seemed to come with so much more effort and the room seemed hotter than it had been moments ago. I prayed for something to break the tension and it seemed for once, Mr. Compton had perfect timing.

"Oh, you bloody beast! I suppose it would have been a bit too easy to shit out in the field where I wouldn't have to bother with it! No, let's wait till we're in the stall, shall we?" I sparred just one moment of shock at William's language before my body was overcome with a fit of laughing. I tried so desperately to be silent and to not give away my position, but I feared I was going to lose the battle. Eric seemed to be in the same state, but saw that I was much farther gone. He lunged forward, his hand clasping over my mouth one again. This time, I helped to hold it there. Eric's whole body was shaking with his silent laughter and it only urged me on. Soon, my eyes were shut tight, unable to hold in the tears my fit had brought on. When I had heard Mr. Compton finish cleaning up and go back out to the pasture, I finally began to calm. The tight muscle that had clenched in my stomach slowly loosened and I was finally able to open my eyes. Eric and I both continued to chuckle every few moments and he kept his hand in place until we both calmed completely.

He finally removed it, brushing away my tears as he did. The touch was so incredibly tender. I dared to look at his eyes and found no clue of the amusement we had shared only moments ago. There was only heat. In the next moment, we had both closed the distance between us, our lips finding each other.

It was not my first kiss, but it was by far the best. His hands had curled into my hair and mine had found his chest. In his lunge to keep my giggles quiet, he had gotten infinitely closer. I could feel the heat of his body against mine and though the day was quite warm already, it was the only sensation I could bring myself to want. He leaned forward, forcing my shoulders back against the wall as he deepened the kiss, his tongue venturing into my mouth. His hands left my hair and sought out my waist, holding it tight and trying to bring to closer to him as he leaned over me.

I do not know how long we sat there. It could have been the entire day. The storm could have returned and blown the entire roof off and I would not have noticed. I did not know where he had learned to manipulate a woman into so effortlessly forgetting time itself, but I was glad he had chosen to use his training on me. I had even had a moment of my own boldness, kissing his jaw and neck, wanting to taste every part of him that I had seen the night before. He had reciprocated, once again needing to cover my mouth to muffle my sounds. It was only when his hand began to wander father that I began to draw myself out of the haze he had created. It had found its way to the bottom of my skirt and had begun to work its way upwards. When I felt his hand grasp the outside of my thigh, just above my knee, I prepared to shove him away. But he stopped, as if sensing that this was my limit. Though my lust had cooled at the threat and I slowly began to descend back to earth. He felt this as well and his kisses slowed and became less adventurous, until finally he had stopped all together. His head rested on my forehead as we both caught our breath. He removed his hand from my leg and pulled the hem of my skirt down as far as it would go in this position.

"I'm sorry." He whispered.

"Don't be. I never told you not to." I had wanted everything that had happened. Though I knew very well that Gran would have died of a heart attack had she caught us.

"I never gave you the chance to refuse me." His brooding features suddenly turned back to a smirk. "Though even if you had wanted it, you would have refused me. I don't anticipate you ever giving up an opportunity to antagonize me."

He quickly stood up and offered me a hand, which I accepted. He opened the stall door and checked that the coast was clear before herding us both out.

"You're right about that, at least." I smiled, "You got straw all over my dress."

I quickly turned away, shaking out my skirt, and made my way towards the door. I turned to take a final glance of him heading for the latter to the loft, his shoulders shaking with laughter.

I set my features, determined to help with the cleanup and avoid suspicion. Though I knew that for the rest of the day, my mind would not stop spinning with images of my mysterious rider.

Back in the courtyard, Anne had still not managed to wrangle the chickens, so I decided to take pity on her and help. Though she was no help with the task, she was useful for information. She informed me that the barn door that led to the back pastures had been blown open in the night and Bob, Amelia's horse, had escaped. The four chickens we kept out back had also found a way out and were pecking about the courtyard and pasture.

Though everyone had been unsettled by the storm, we all seemed in high spirits today, no doubt due to the sun; and for me at least, a short rendezvous in the stables. Though we seemed to be in decent shape, Gran worried that we were not the only ones who had been hit. As soon as all the chickens had been caught, she came up to me, a distressed look on her face.

"Sookie, dear, would you do me a great favor?" I nodded without hesitation and she continued. "I'm worried about how Sam fared in the storm. That farmhouse is old, and I can't stop imagining that something could have happened to him. Would you go to the pub and make sure he's alright, and the farm too?"

I could tell she was very troubled about this and agreed. I set off almost immediately and regretted not having some water before leaving. It was now well into the afternoon and the post-storm heat was as shocking as it was unbearable. I wondered if it had been Eric who had dehydrated me so much. I giggled at the thought. The walk seemed even longer than usual, but eventually, with thought of a blonde man on my mind, I was on familiar streets and in front of a familiar door.

As usual, the pub was dim and I was thankful for the cool it provided, but was forced to take several moments for my eyes to adjust. When they did, I was surprised. The pub was quite busy, even more so considering that it was the afternoon after a storm. Surely most people would have work to do. I noticed all of the patrons had gathered around a table in the back of the room and I slowly migrated over there. Weaving my way to the center, I picked up on a few whispered comments of the group.

"Probably all 'is imagination. Man 'asn't been in 'is right mind since he got back from the war." A man whispered to his friend.

"He wouldn't be exactly hard to rob, now would he? Could have been anyone with the will." Peter, the butcher's apprentice said to a man that looked very much like his brother.

"Probably just someone having a laugh, anyways," the brother responded.

When I'd finally made my way to the center of the group, I found all of the attention focused on Mr. Bellefleur, the post boy. Though he looked anything but a boy at this moment. He sat at the table he had occupied on my last trip to the pub, though he was much worse for wear now. He sat hunched over a fresh pint. He rocked gently in his seat and every few moments his body lurched forward in something that sounded like a mixture between a sob and a moan. His hair hung loose, shaking with his movements and sticking to the sweat that covered his face.

This would not do. I made my way back out of the throng and to the bar. Sneaking behind it, I found a clean rag and wet it will cool water, before fighting my way back to Mr. Bellefleur. I pulled a chair to sit next to him and reached slowly out to touch his arm.

"Mr. Bellefleur?" He flinched at my touch, though he looked at me and seemed to register who I was. Though I did not know him too well, we had spoken on a few occasions and Sam had hired him with repair work and upkeep on the farm when he was available. Sam had also mentioned to me that he was deeply disturbed by what he'd seen in the war. I knew now that those thoughts were likely what troubled him now.

"Mr. Bellefleur, you're safe here, in Sam's pub. Nothing is going to harm you here." I spoke slowly and he kept his eyes on mine. Holding his hand and keeping eye contact, I tried to will him to calm down.

"All's well here, sure. But he says someone robbed him on the road last night!" Peter called out. They were all quiet entertained by this and all I wanted to do was shout at them to leave him be. I turned back to him, offering my cloth for him to clean his face. He took it and quickly pushed his hair back and wiped off the majority of the sweat. He laid it down and took a large gulp of his drink. It seemed to steady him. Perhaps now would be the time to get to the bottom of this.

"Mr. Bellefleur, I know you're upset. But do you think you could tell me what happened? Last night?" I prodded gently. He closed his eyes tight and took a few breaths before nodding stiffly, shaking a bit.

"It was a storm last night. I'd left late and was on the road, I wanted to get to town. Get home." He opened his eyes and I nodded encouragingly at him. He continued. "I was close. Maybe…five miles out, on the main highway, when he came out of the trees and rode straight up next to be. Grabbed the reins and pulled me to a stop before I knew he was even there."

The ghosts in Mr. Bellefleurs eyes were enchanting not only him, but me as well. I could feel the fear as he told me. I could see everything that had happened before he even spoke it. I realized that I without even noticing, I had opened my mind to his. Though I knew what he was going to say, I let him say the words to confirm it.

"He held a pistol at me. Didn't say a word, just pointed it at me. I thought he was going to kill me but he just motioned for my letter bag. I didn't want to die, I…I handed it over." He was punishing himself for this, though I knew it was not uncommon for post to be robbed on the highway.

"He didn't take it though. He just began to rifle through it. Kept his gun on me the whole time, his other hand digging around in the bag. He must have looked at fifty letters before he found one he liked and took it. Slipped it right into his coat and handed me my bag back. Fellow tipped his hat at me, gun still pointed at my heart, and suddenly he was gone, back into the trees. Couldn't have taken a minute, the whole thing!" Mr. Bellefleur took a few more swallows of his beer before he looked back at me.

"It's alright Mr. Bellefleur, I believe you." I wouldn't have doubted if I was the only one in the room that could say that with good faith, but then again, I had seen his thoughts. I had felt his fear as his horse had been jerked to a stop and a gun pulled to his face. But most importantly, I had seen the man that had robbed him. I had even recognized him. Well…not him exactly. But I had recognized the blue eyes that had smirked at him over the high collar of the coat as the rider had tipped his hat.

I gave Mr. Bellefleur a final smile, and convinced that he was in a much better state, I pushed back through the crowd to the bar. Lafayette, Sam's slave, now stood behind it. I was suddenly reminded of my mission.

"Lafayette, is Sam alright? Why is he not here himself?"

"Few shingles of the roof was blown off last night. He's back home fixing it up before it storms again." He handed me a glass of water, and I took it with a polite 'thank you'.

"So he's not harmed? You both weathered the storm well enough?"

"Yes, ma'am. How the inn fare? I know Sam'll be worried about you over there."

"We're all well. Just a bit of thatching blown from the stables. It's being repaired today though." I was distracted, and I think Lafayette could tell. He looked at me curiously and I took the opportunity to make my escape. "I really should get back, there is a lot of clean up and work to do. Gran just wanted to be assured of Sam's well being, yours as well."

I smiled and he told me that he'd mention my visit to Sam. Satisfied that I was done in town, I made my way back to the Inn. This time, it seemed like no distance at all to walk. My mind raced with questions that I wasn't sure I wanted to know the answer to. But as soon as I made it back to the inn, I lowered my shields to find where everyone was. It seemed the roof had been repaired and everyone had gone back to their rooms, save Anne and Gran who remained in the kitchen. When I passed them, I told them that I, too, wished to escape the heat of the afternoon in the solitude of my room. Though when I had reached the upstairs, and walked the length of the hallway, I turned my back to my door and instead opened the one across the hall.

Without invitation I entered. Eric stood over his basin, splashing water on his face and shoulders, but turned and stared at me as I shut the door and leaned against it. He raised that insulting little eye brow at me and I stared at it with nothing but disgust.

"You're a highwayman," I said after several moments of silence passed. I had expected him to be shocked, which he was not. I had expected him to be angry with me for discovering his secret, but he was not. I had thought that maybe he would begin to pack or even leave right away, but he did not. Most importantly, I had hoped he would deny it. But he did not.

**Dare to accept the challenge (as listed in the above a/n)?**

**Then go ahead, review.**


	7. Communiqué

**Review #20 came in at 12:17am on Saturday morning. But I figured it was so close, I might as well throw you a bone. AND…you get it a day earlier than I promised. Aren't I nice? It's not as long as a full chapter, but hopefully I make up for the length with content. Several slightly important details will be revealed…but not all. =)**

**Thank you so much to everyone who has been reading and reviewing, you guys are awesome! **

"I had hoped you were bursting into my room for a slightly more enjoyable reason." He finally responded before drying off his face on a small hand towel.

"You're a thief." I could not move from against the door and my voice was drained of energy and fight.

"We both know it's not the first time that I've been accused of that."

"You led me to believe that the first time, you were wrongly persecuted."

"I was accused of attempting to steal a man's entire fortune, along with his wife; which was not true. However, I have stolen other things."

"Like a letter," I accused. He smiled at the hostility in my voice that time.

"I find it interesting that of all of the things I've relieved of their ownership, it is the one of least value that would expose me to you."

"Oh, I highly doubt that anything could expose you as much as you do yourself. And if the letter has no value, why steal it?"

"Oh it has value, just not the monetary kind. I just find it hard to believe you're upset about it."

"Well why don't you tell me what else you've stolen so I can decided if the letter really is worth my anger."

"I stole you book," he said. He turned and lifted it from the table, tossing it to the end of the bed where it laid lifelessly between us.

"I assumed you were only borrowing it." I was quiet, my eyes on the pages that stood straight up from the open spine.

"I've borrowed a lot of things. Usually money, small purses; nothing that would get noticed too quickly. And never from someone who will miss it too terribly."

"Have you killed people for their purses?" Tears were starting to spring to my eyes. I had heard so many stories of highway robbers that had killed whole families for their luggage, ripping the jewelry off of the dead bodies. I did not want to think that Eric was capable of it.

"I have killed people, yes," he said. I shut my eyes to try and hold in the tears. "but never for money. You know that I was in the war, after all."

"You could have killed Mr. Bellefleur." I yelled at him, the anger finally flowing over at the thought of the terrified man at the pub. Eric only looked at me with confusion. "The postman you robbed, yesterday!"

"I never shot at him. I never even laid a hand on the man," he stated, as if it was the most ridiculous accusation of the day.

"He is not in his right mind! He was not the same when he came back from the war! Even the sight of a gun can toss him right back into those memories and you pointed one at his face!" I had finally left my position by the door and was now leaning against Eric's footboard.

"If he is not capable, then he should not occupy such a dangerous post. Post boys are robbed every day. It's quite common." I stared in shock of his calm words, trying to grasp what sheer size of the ego this man had.

"I…I cannot believe you are defending your actions."

"I will not pretend to be anything other than what I am!" He was angry now, striding towards me and looming over my small frame. "I do what I must to survive. I cannot protect the delicate natures of every blubbering post boy. There are far worse dangers out there than me! He is lucky that it was I who came upon him that night. Another would have taken his life without a thought!"

I was crying now. I did not want to know that this man was cruel. That he was capable of harming others so freely. I could not even look up at him. I stared at his bare feet on the wooden floor. His toes wobbled and they took a tiny step closer to me. Through the fingers that covered my face, I could see his arm lift in my direction, before pausing and falling back to his side.

"Don't…please don't cry." His voice was tiny. Not even a hint of the man who had just yelled at me.

"I will cry if I wish!" I snapped my eyes back to his face, angry that he could so easily switch from threatening to tender. It was unnatural.

"Why would you do that!" I pushed at his chest and he stumbled back a bit. "What would you kiss me!"

"What?" He seemed completely dumbfounded.

"You kissed me. You knew who you were and you kissed me!"

"You're not making any sense…" He actually seemed worried for my mental health as he stared at my hysterical display.

"You tricked me. You knew you were a thief. You must have known how I would feel about something like that, but you kissed my anyway."

"You're making this sound like some great plot against you. I kissed you because I wanted to, and for no reason other than that." He spoke as if it was obvious that he was innocent on at least this charge. I hated everything about him in that moment. At least I wanted to. But I had the tiniest feeling that even if I wanted to, I could never truly hate him.

"Get out," I said without realizing what words were leaving my mouth.

"This is my room." He looked around nervously, confused about where he should be going.

"No. I mean get out. Get out of the inn. Leave."

"I've paid ahead for another week."

"I'll get you your money back. I just don't want you here." I was calm now. I just couldn't bear to have him across the hall, listening to my dreams and breathing my air. I wanted him away from me.

"I'm not going anywhere." I recognized the look that he gave me. It was cold and angry, like the night I had stitched his side. He was resolute. "You can have me arrested if you wish, but I am not leaving this Inn willingly until my business here is done."

I looked at him with as much ice as he was casting at me, but neither of us was going to budge. It seemed we were equally stubborn.

I turned and left the room without another word. I walked at an even pace across the hall and calmly opened the door and entered my room. Once inside, I lifted my chair and moved it to just in front of the door, facing it. Slipping off my shoes, I sat down. For several hours, I examined the paneled wood of the door in front of me. But I was not focused on the door. I was listening. I could hear movements in the room across the hall. A slight creaking of the floor, the groan of the bed, or the splash of water. I listened, without moving, until I heard what I was waiting for. It was time for dinner; I could hear plates being set down and the door between the dining room and kitchen swing. Eric heard it too. He left his room quietly, and walked down the hall, descending the stairs without stopping.

I smiled and rose from my position. Slowly, oh so slowly opening my door, praying for the hinges not to squeak. My bare feet found purchase on quiet boards as I crossed the hall and pressed gently into the door, until it began to silently open. I left it open, if he came back upstairs, there was nowhere to hide in his room anyway. Quickly I began to search. Under his pillow and the mattress, in the drawers of the cabinet, in the pages of the book that still lay on the foot of the bed. Finally, digging through his bag, my hand brushed parchment. I pulled it out slowly, careful not to catch and tear it. The letter in my hand was folded tightly and had once born an elaborate seal, though it was now broken. Not bothering to hide my find, I slowly made my journey back across the hall.

After lighting my lamp, I sat on my bed and read that brief letter.

_Quinn, _

_Expect the final delivery on the 11__th__, evening; permitting good weather. Sail ahead with the cargo. I may be detained and will arrange a second sailing._

_Lord Jean-Batiste Dubois Henri Andre Le Clerq, Marquis_

Besides the pretention of the signer, there didn't seem to be anything extraordinary about the letter. Though it undoubtedly was quite valuable to Eric. Today was the seventh, so whatever was being delivered, it was going to be there in four days. It was being delivered to a boat, and the letter was addressed to Quinn at an inn in Truro. Obviously, that is where the delivery was expected. But none of this would be of use to me until I found out what was being transported. For all knew, it could be a shipment of ladies' hats or some kind of produce. Though both of those ideas seemed fairly unlikely.

I must have sat on my bed another hour, contemplating what the letter could mean, and why Eric would want _this_ letter so much. I knew I would eventually get an answer, and I wasn't surprised when I heard my door open and close quickly. I didn't look up at my guest.

I had spent a lot of time thinking about Eric's profession…if you could even call it that. He had told me that he had never killed anyone for money, and I believed him. I did not believe he would lie about something like that. Though it bothered me that he made his way through the loss of others, I realized that there were worse men out there. Though I did not forgive him, or approve of his actions, I would not turn him in. And I would listen to him if he tried to speak to me. It should be any man's right to defend himself.

"Why did you take it?" He asked. He had quietly walked over to my desk and sat at the chair. I stayed on the bed, my legs tucked under me as I leaned against the headboard. The letter lay on my lap, I did not try to conceal it.

"I feared that you would lie to me about its contents if I had simply asked." I looked at him, daring him to challenge me. Though it occurred to me that he would be more likely to remain silent about the letter than to blatantly lie about it.

"You didn't even give me a chance. You simply assumed the worst. That's hardly fair," he chastised.

"What's in the letter, Eric?" Here, Eric, here is your chance.

"Oh, it just a correspondence between friends. Talk of the weather and upcoming travel. It's all very trivial, actually." He smirked at me and I rolled my eyes.

"Who is this Marquis? Le Clerq?" Since Eric had chosen the letter based on the address, I figured it was the players, rather than the game, that was most important. Eric looked at me silently for a few moments, deciding if he wanted to answer or not.

"He is the man who sold me into military service. He had me arrested by officials he had paid off for crimes I had not committed."

"And Quinn?"

"Ah, you actually know something of him already." He chuckled at my curious expression and pointed to his side. "The cut was his handiwork."

"You said that was an old friend." I challenged.

"He was, until he chose to support Le Clerq. Obviously, we're not as close as we used to be."

"If he cut you then you must have seen him only days before arriving here. Where did you come from?"

"Ah, well this is actually the first time I've been back to England since the war. It was a complete coincidence that I ran into him at the port I sailed into. I believe you already know where he's stationed." I nodded my head at that.

"What has Le Clerq shipped to him?" I asked. Eric laughed and came over to the bed, smiling down at me.

"You have a lot of questions," he said, plucking the letter off my lap. "Perhaps I'll answer them tomorrow."

He continued smirking at me as he left the room and headed for his own. He had given me a lot to think about tonight. But one thought particularly plagued me. Eric was a highwayman; and I had the strongest suspicion that the letter would not be the only thing he stole while at the inn.

**Hmm.. Do I smell another 20 reviews heading my way?**


	8. The Frenchman

**So, it's not a super long chapter but it's transitional, as the next one will be as well. We're getting into the thick of things soon. So just sit back and enjoy a low-stress chapter.**

I had not moved since Eric had left the room. When my door opened again, I winced at the stiffness in my neck as I turned to see my new visitor.

"You weren't at dinner," Amelia stated gently as she took a seat on the opposite corner of my bed. She could tell I needed distance.

"I was busy," I said, smoothing out a wrinkle in my skirt.

"Oh?" She didn't push, but I knew she must be bursting with questions. I kept my mental shields in place, determined to not have to hear them directly.

"Eric is a highwayman. He robbed the post boy last night. He took a letter that alludes to some kind of delivery to a man named Quinn from a marquis; who also happens to be the same man that accused him of being a thief and sent him off to war." I think that hit most of the major points…oh. "And he kissed me, in the barn. I kissed him back. There were a lot exchanged kisses, actually."

"Is that all?"

"Of course it is! What kind of girl do I seem to be? Why does everyone assume I'm some kind of harlot?" Eric had insinuated the same thing.

"No, I mean…is that all you need to tell me?" I blushed at the misunderstanding of her question and my outburst. I seemed to be unable to control my temper this evening.

"Yes," I confirmed.

"How did you learn all of that? Did you use your…ability?" She motioned to her head significantly.

"No," I admitted shamefully. "When my temper flares, I do not think. I forget that I have it at my disposal. But is it so wrong of me to wish for him to tell me these things to my face? I don't wish to steal the knowledge from him. It's no better that stealing someone's private letter." I pouted and Amelia smiled sadly at me, clearly not going to argue. Instead, she changed the subject.

"Mr. Norris announced at dinner tonight that he and Mr. Felton will be leaving tomorrow. They think the weather today indicates that summer is finally here, and they wish to spend it by the sea." Amelia looked miserable at the news, and I matched her sentiment. Mr. Norris was a cheerful sort of man to have about; which presently was a much needed resource. The presence of the man across the hall was looming like some dark cloud over the inn.

"I care for him more than I should," I spoke, my mind having left the room.

"Mr. Norris!" Amelia laughed in shock.

"No." I caught her eye and her laughter faded at the distress apparent on my face.

"Why is it such a bad thing to care for him?"

"Because there is a darkness in him that I cannot begin to comprehend. He has killed many people, and terrorized many more. I have never seen Mr. Bellefleur so unhinged as he was this afternoon. How can I care for a man that is capable of that?"

"Ah. This is my area of expertise. If there is one thing that I know, it is that the heart is not rational. Love is blind. But it is also deaf and dumb and has a horrible sense of direction. That's why it's such a gift when it finds you." She smiled and stood up, coming to sit next to me and drawing me into her arms to let me cry. For once, she was silent; and she couldn't have picked a better time.

I awoke to someone shaking me, but my eye lids clung together from tears and I tried to bat away the intruder.

"Miss Sookie!" I finally retched open my eyes to find Anne staring down at me. "Miss Sookie, there's a man that wants to see you."

I tried to sit up and found a lump pressed in behind me. Amelia had fallen asleep as well and was beginning to stir from Anne's presence and my movements.

"A man?" I asked skeptically. "Who?"

"I don't know, Miss. He's just arrived, I found him in the barn. Says he's been told to ask for you."

"What's going on?" Amelia spoke through her yawn and stretched.

"Anne says there's a man in the barn asking for me." I said, getting up from the bed and grabbing a shawl.

"A man!" Amelia shot up from the bed and was out the door and down the hall before I could find my shoes. I ran after her, Anne taking up the rear. Amelia had disappeared but I followed her trail down the stairs and into the courtyard as fast as I could. In the barn, any worry I had was laid to rest. Amelia was being swung around by a giant of a man, her giggles piercing the silence of the night. He chuckled as well, the deep richness mixing with her girlish squeals of delight.

"Is it all right, miss?" Anna asked, finally catching up.

"Yes, I don't think we're in any danger. You can go back to bed." I smiled. I caught a quick, sad, glance at the door leading to the coachmen's quarters, but she turned and walked back into the inn.

"I take it that you are Amelia's long lost love?" I asked when he had finally set her back on her feet.

"Yes…Alcide Herveaux. A pleasure to meet you…Miss Stackhouse?" He stepped forward, Amelia still on his arm, and took my hand to kiss.

"Yes, but you can call me Sookie."

"As it was your kindness that sent the letter that led me here, you may find it hard to stop me from addressing you as My Savior." We all laughed and Alcide took the lull in the conversation to once again embrace Amelia.

"I cannot believe that you're actually here." Amelia said to him, a grin of pure ecstasy on her features.

"Then let us both disappear and you won't have to." At his suggestion, all of the jollity of the moment vanished as I realized that my closest friend was going to leave me. Amelia felt the shift in my emotions and looked at me for a moment before turning back to her beau.

"I can't." She said simply.

"What do you mean? We have been waiting for months for an opportunity to escape. At last, we have it." He had grasped onto her shoulders, making her look him full in the face.

"I can't leave Sookie right now. She needs me."

"I need you." There was no room for argument with his tone. Amelia stared at the floor for a moment before her head snapped up, eyes bright with excitement.

"And there is a way for you both to have me."

In the late morning, Mr. Norris and Mr. Felton bid goodbye to the Inn. Mr. Felton had simply tipped his hat at those he left behind, but Mr. Norris had offered warm and bittersweet farewells. He'd promised to return in the fall on his way back to London and told me that my company would be sorely missed. He told Amelia that if he had ever had children, he hopped they would have been like her. She had laughed and told him that if that had been fate's cruel joke, he would have already been put in his grave from worry. He had taken only a moment before wholeheartedly agreeing and withdrawing his wish. Instead, he kissed her on the head and warned her to be careful who she cheated at cards. Not all were as forgiving as him. Neither I nor Amelia had dry eyes as Mr. Felton drove the carriage out of the courtyard.

She had spent the rest of the morning pacing in the parlor. It was suspicious, but Mrs. Fant had already fallen asleep, her book drooping dangerously towards the floor. I flipped though a book of poems at a seat by the window. At the exact moment the hall clock stuck twelve, Amelia froze and we both glanced at each other. The chimes finally ended and were replaced by the clatter of approaching hooves.

Gran heard it too. She came out of the kitchen and smiled kindly at us before going out to the court yard. Amelia and I stayed quiet as muffled voices were exchanged. A few minutes later, Gran returned, with Alcide in tow.

"This is the dining room, and just though here is the parlor." She led him in and Amelia and I both feigned surprised and curious. She introduced us. "This is Miss Amelia Broadway and her chaperone Mrs. Fant, and this is my granddaughter Sookie. Ladies, this is Mr. Pardloe. He'll be staying with us for a few days." She finished the introduction

"Pleasure to meet you." Amelia and I said in unison. Mrs. Fant had still not woken up, but even if she had, she would not have recognized Alcide. Mrs. Fant had never met him, only been warned about him by Amelia's father.

Gran escorted 'Mr. Pardloe' down the hall where he would most likely take Mr. Felton's room, just across from the kitchen. Amelia smiled at me, happy that she did not have to disappoint someone she cared about…well….not including her father.

Alcide stayed out of sight for the majority of the afternoon, staying in character. Amelia couldn't sit still and busied herself with different tasks until dinner had arrived. She sat expectantly at the table as I helped to set it. Carrying several plates into the dining room, I was chagrined to find that Amelia had company; sitting ever so at ease at the end of the table. His was the last seat to receive a plate. Soon, the rest of the guests had filed in.

Mr. Norris's company was sorely missed at this particular hour. He had often provided a topic for conversation to help ease the sharp clatter of forks against plates. All but Amelia and Alcide seemed to mourn the loss, and dinner finished quickly.

Mrs. Fant disappeared to her room as usual and Gran and Anne set to cleaning up. Without having to be told, I brought out glasses and wine, knowing Amelia would not wish to retire yet. She and Alcide sat at a table close to the window and I joined then, though we remained cautious as Gran passed in and out of the dining room.

"So tell me Mr. Pardloe," I began, "what kind of business are you in?"

"I suppose you could say that I am in my family's business." He smirked.

"And what business is that?" I prodded.

"Inheriting money from your predecessor. Although I suppose that is not fair. My father does often dip his toe into infrastructure. " I smiled, I had hoped this was a safe topic, even from prying ears, and I assumed that Alcide's statements were honest.

"And how do they feel about your trip abroad?" Amelia asked, concern clear in her voice.

"They are not supportive. They do not believe my…justification is good enough. I disagree." Amelia looked teary and I could only assume that Alcide's chasing after her had cost him something of his family life.

"Do you mind if I join you?" Eric had reappeared and pulled out the chair next to me.

"Yes, I mind." I snapped at him. I was not yet ready to share such close quarters with him.

"Perhaps my presence will grow on you." He plopped down into the seat, taking my glass and finishing its contents.

"Like a fungus?" I spat back at him. He simply smirked and turned to Alcide, who was watching our display with amusement.

"Eric Northman." He declared, shaking Alcide's hand.

"Preston Pardloe." Alcide offered in return.

"Interesting name for a Frenchman." Eric stated. "Although, I knew of a Pardloe in Paris. Worked for a wealthy family there, Herveaux. He was executed after they learned he was stealing from them. Related?"

Eric's tone was casual but I knew from experience that the look in his eye was anything but. Amelia glared at Alcide, angry that he would choose someone's actual name as his alias. Though Alcide seemed completely relaxed.

"What a strange coincidence. I know of Northman from Paris. He was a criminal also if I remember correctly. "

"Falsely accused." Eric corrected.

"I don't doubt that. Nearly everyone that Le Clerq accuses is innocent. Even set his sights on my father once."

"I am aware."

"Nearly bankrupted the family."

"I might have heard something about that, as well."

"Mother nearly died of worry. She's still weak."

"He does have a way with women."

"I hate him."

"I don't blame you."

"I've often tried to think of ways to cause his downfall."

"Join the club."

"He's very clever."

"Inarguably."

"It would be best to join forces with someone with similar goals as mine."

"I doubt it would be hard to find such a man."

"But I still wouldn't go after Le Clerq himself."

"That would be a suicide mission."

"I'd hit him in his wallet…where it would hurt the most."

"A fatal blow, I hope."

"But I'm not nearly clever enough to devise such a scheme."

"I'm sure someone could do that for you."

"I wouldn't be surprised if they already had."

"Not a foolish assumption at all."

"All I would need to know is the place and time."

"Well, fate has a funny way of throwing you exactly where you need to be, exactly when you need to be there."

As suddenly as it had begun, it stopped. Mine and Amelia's heads had been bouncing back and forth as if following a ball on a court during the exchange. Now, the men simply smiled at each other and raised their glasses, drinking to the arrangement newly agreed upon. Amelia and I looked at each other, each trying to understand how that had happened so quickly. We each shook our heads. Men.

"Well, it would be wise for us all to retire. It's getting late. Pleasure speaking with you, Herveaux. " Eric stood and departed. Alcide was clearly pleased with anything that Eric suggested and also stood and left.

"I now understand your dislike of Mr. Northman." Amelia pouted, sad that Alcide had so easily walked away from her. She finished her wine and stood from the table. I followed her up the stairs and saw her to her room before heading for my own. I sliver of light peeked from under Eric's door and I wondered if he was again reading the letter, looking for some hidden message or comfort. I did not dwell on the thought, instead I was eager to embrace my bed.

The sheets were cool against my legs and I felt myself drifting to more pleasant place when I heard it.

_Tlot-tlot. _

I buried my face into the pillow, trying to block out the sound and make it not real. I did not need more complications. But when the clashing of hooves on cobblestones became too loud to ignore, I rose from my bed and pulled back the curtain.

If I had not known that Eric was tucked into bed across the hall, I would have thought he was playing a cruel joke on me. A rider sat atop a large horse in the courtyard. His hat dipped low on his brow and the collar of his coat pulled up high. As he knocked against the door, the horse shuffled uneasily. A few moments later, Gran came to the door and shared a few words with the rider. As Gran closed the door, the rider's face glanced up at mine, familiar blue eyes smirking at me.

**What? Eric.2? Is she dreaming? Hallucinating? Fantasizing? I'm sure most of you are too smart for me and will figure it out. **

**If you would be so kind…drop me a line and let me know how I'm doing. Reviews make me want to have a naked Eric in the next chapter.**


	9. Salvation from Vexation

**Hope everyone's having a great holiday weekend!**

**TWO WEEKS! REALLY? Wow…sorry. I did not mean to take that long, but his chapter was hard to get started. I needed to figure out some future events before I settled on how this chapter was going to go. I hope I've worked out some kinks…**

**For some ****EXCITING NEWS****, check out the A/U after the chapter!**

Vexed.

That was the word Mrs. Halladay had so often used when she was here. She had been vexed by the pain in her joints, vexed by an atrocious daughter in law, and vexed by her doctor's orders to get more fresh air and therefore waste so much time in the country.

Now, I was vexed.

Though unlike Mrs. Halladay, I did not pretend that my condition was the fault of others. I knew that I had dug myself into this hole of confusion and…vexation. I, myself and no one else, had turned down two honest and utterly likable men. One of then I had known for years and counted as one of my family. One of them had expressed, in such heartbreaking terms, how much he loved and cared for me, and I had not even told my Gran of it. But I had rejected them both and fallen into the arms of a highwayman. I feared what this meant for my soul, and more pressingly, my heart.

It was not even my own love life that was causing me all of the worry. Amelia's was contributing as well. I was also harboring her forbidden romance in my house, under the nose of Mrs. Fant.

As if this was not bad enough, I knew that my highwayman was plotting. Mr. Herveaux and he were scheming with every look they shared across the dinner table. Yet, I did nothing. I could not bring myself to inform the authorities and have Eric arrested. I knew that he was seeking revenge for wrongs done to him, but I was not sure if I believed in revenge. Shouldn't one always be willing to forgive?

But it did not matter what I thought, it was going to happen whether I approved of it or not. It was swiftly reaching the point of no return. After all, reinforcements had arrived just last night.

I had not even turned one page in my book since I had sat down in the parlor. I had been distracted with how very vexed I was. But now, I had company. The rider that had so rudely awoken me last night waltzed quietly into the room and took up a seat on the sofa. I tried not to look. I was scared of this person when I had only seen their eyes. But now that I knew she was Eric's sister, I was terrified.

From only the few hours that she had been in the house, I knew that she was not an average kind of woman; certainly not one to underestimate or antagonize. Pam, as Eric had introduced her at breakfast, refused to wear women's clothes, instead looking for all the world like Eric's miniature twin. She had picked at breakfast as if it were some foreign and frightful cuisine, settling herself with only tea. All of this paled in comparison to her most amiable quality: her silence. If it was not imperative to her survival to speak, she would not. This, above all, I feared about her.

I knew she was thinking. I could feel the vibration of it in the air as it seeped out of her and tainted the room with its judgment and…dare I say…vexation? If I had ever been tempted to construct a backup set of mental barriers, it was now.

She did not reach for a book and cast only a cursory glance over Mrs. Fant's embroidery kit. She offered no greeting and I peeked stealthily up from my book as she arranged her feet to rest on the coffee table and laced her fingers in her lap. She fixed her eyes straight ahead of her.

If I had not been able to read before, now, I barely registered that I even held a book at all. Though my eyes were tilted constantly to my lap, my mind was wondering what she could possibly be doing in my parlor. She was not an afternoon tea and biscuits kind of woman. She was out of place here. Obviously no diversion found in this room interested her. I was therefore forced to accept a most horrifying prospect. She was here for me.

I continued to pretend to read.

The clock chimed the hour and I jumped a bit in my seat. She pretended not to hear it.

I turned an unread page.

She straightened the cuff of her shirt and again sat motionless.

I coughed.

She did not ask if I was unwell.

An errant call of Mr. Compton's carried through the window.

I discretely stretched, my bodice becoming increasingly uncomfortable in the pose.

A fly buzzed through the window and settled on the toe of Pam's boot.

She did not shoo it.

Mrs. Fant appeared in the doorway of the parlor, it must be time for her afternoon nap. She stopped when she saw that the room was occupied. I could tell she was about to offer salutations when she stopped herself, looking back and forth between myself and the statue on the sofa. She cleared her throat, and disappeared again down the hall.

If old and feeble Mrs. Fant could escape, then so could I. I laid my book down on the window seat and stood as quickly and as quietly as I could, my eyes on the prize of the door. I would not make it.

"I hear you have some criticism about how I raised my brother." I could not decide if it had been meant as a curious statement or a challenge. I turned to face her and she finally looked up at me.

"Well, considering his chosen profession, I would guess that morals were not a part of his education." I had no illusions about where this conversation was going, and chose to take up a seat across from her. I watched as the tiniest twitch of her eyebrow revealed that she was upset by my statement, but otherwise, she controlled her features.

"I can see how you would reach such a conclusion. Unfortunately, his actions are the result of necessity rather than desire or lack of morals. I find no fault with the result of my teachings."

"You're a bit biased."

"And you barely know him."

"I know him better than I would like to."

"You sound as if you didn't enjoy your little romp in the barn." She commented with a less than innocent gleam in her eye. My jaw was no longer under my control and slipped dangerously close to dragging across the floor. "My brother and I share everything."

"Clearly. Including your adept understanding of acceptable social behavior."

"Family trait." She shrugged, as if it somehow excused the behavior of the Northman siblings. This whole family was infuriating.

"Is there something I can help you win, Ms. Northman?" I spoke through my now clenched jaw.

"Ravenscroft, please, I'm married. A widow, actually."

"My condolences."

"Don't bother. He's been a much more agreeable husband since he died. But that is obviously not the impertinent topic."

"And what is?"

"My brother, of course."

"Of course."

"He's miserable."

"I am sorry for that." I looked down at my lap, avoiding her piercing looks.

"Don't flatter yourself, not all of it is your doing. He's been miserable for quite some time. The result of some of my own actions, unfortunately." She looked genuinely guilty at this but quickly maintained her disinterested expression. "The point is this: he has some rather…drastic….plans to amend this perpetual state of his."

"The shipment from Marquis Le Clerq to Quinn." I nod.

"Yes, I know of your adorable little flirtation with thievery. Unfortunately, you've burrowed yourself rather deeply into our plans. I need to know if I can trust you." Pam sat up and leaned forward, her elbows balanced on her knees as she brought her face closer to mine. I could practically hear her muscles sighing with the relief of a new position. I was of a different opinion of this change. She only seemed more menacing.

"Even if I told you that you could, you wouldn't believe me."

"True. What I should have said was that I hope I can trust you. Because if I can't, I'm going to have hurt you, and therefore my brother." 

"Well I wouldn't want you to strain yourself."

"Don't worry, I'm not as delicate as people mistake me for being." I suppose the look that crossed her face could be described as a smile, but it wasn't pleasant to look at. Quickly, she stood from her seat and made her way past me and out the room.

I looked over to the clock, but only a few minutes had passed since the last chime that had made me jump. It seemed like so much longer.

I sat there for quite a while, enjoying the peace that had finally descended on the room. Eventually, Mrs. Fant came back, this time taking her usual seat with a smile and 'Good afternoon' to me. She began to flip through the pages of the bible that she'd left on the table, but soon it became too exhausting an endeavor. When her soft snores were too much to ignore, I left.

The kitchen was not much more of a soothing environment. Gran was busy with a stack of dishes from breakfast when I came in.

"Hello dear. Would you stir that? It's getting too hot and Anne's disappeared. Probably off with that Irishman somewhere." She smiled and pointed to a bubbling pot over the coals. It was getting much too hot, threatening to burn. I pulled it far enough from the heat and sat on a chair, stirring it.

"That Pam is a character, isn't she?" Gran smiled conspiratorially.

"Yes she is. If I had to guess, I'd say she was an antagonist. But I didn't realize you liked gossip."

"Oh I wouldn't dare gossip. I was just observing. And it seems like some time since we've talked, I was trying to start the ball rolling."

"I'm sorry. I haven't meant to avoid you. There's just been a lot on my mind."

"You know you're always welcome to take the weight off your neck and put your problems on that table there." She smiled at the kitchen table. I glanced over at the cluttered table and thought there might not be room for my problems.

"I received an offer of marriage." It had been days since it happened. I was ashamed that I was only now telling her, and more than a little scared of her reaction.

"Finally!" She exclaimed, turning around to face me. My face heating from more than the fire. "Mr. Compton has had his eye on you for years now. I thought that man was never going to muster the nerve to ask you."

"I turned him down." I couldn't even look at her. The floor had a much less intimidating stare.

"I did not get this old by being a fool. I know you turned him down."

"You're not disappointed?" I couldn't bear it if Gran had been ashamed in me, her spinster granddaughter.

"Of course not. I know you don't prefer him, and you're not the kind of girl to settle. I wouldn't want you to anyway." She stated as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Is that what's been bothering you so much?"

"It's one of them." I sounded exhausted. I was exhausted. She only chuckled at my expression before turning back to her work, letting me decide how to proceed.

"Do you think that everyone is deserving of forgiveness." I knew the moment I said it what her answer would be. But I was not expecting her reaction. Her movements stilled and she turned slowly back to me, wiping her damp hands on her apron.

"I do." She said. "I have to believe…for my own benefit…that any misdeed can be forgiven."

I had never seen her look so sad. Not even after my parent's death had she been like this. Back then, she had been stronger that I could now comprehend, protecting Jason and I. But it was not loss that filled her with sorrow now, it was guilt. She had said as much, but I didn't know what she was referring to, and I wouldn't dare ask.

Dinner was slightly more social that it had been lately, excluding Pam. Eric and Alcide were both more relaxed now and chatted with the rest of the table. It was almost as pleasant as when Mr. Norris had been here. Once again, I was reminded of how much I missed the old man. I truly hopped he would keep his promise to stop on his way back to London.

Gran seemed in better spirits. Alcide was flirting shamelessly with her and complimenting her cooking. She half-heartedly beat off his advances, but giggled none the less.

It wasn't so bad a night. I helped Gran and Anne clean up before going to bed, peeking around corners to make sure I would not run into Pam. I made it to my room without incident and collapsed on the bed instantly, wishing that it had all the answers like it seemed to. Despite my efforts to hug knowledge and help out of the mattress, I remained vexed.

It was only worsened by the tap at the door. Amelia did not wait for an answer, opening it almost immediately. I rolled over to peek at her and the lantern she held.

"Aren't you coming?"She whispered.

"Coming where?" I asked, sitting up. She rolled her eyes and motioned for me to join her.

"Honestly, you really are fortunate to have me, otherwise you would be completely lost."

By the time we were down the stairs, it became obvious that Amelia was headed outside.

"Please tell me where we're going." I pleaded with her. Rather than taking pity, she huffed.

"Mr. Northman is as stubborn as he is gorgeous. I don't understand how they can justify trying to exclude you from this when he's done everything he can to pull you in. Though I doubt seducing you was part of the plan."

"Amelia!" I yelled, stopping her rant and her progress forward.

"Shhhh!" She quickly jumped to me, keeping me quiet. "It's secret."

Again, she took my arm and propelled me toward the stables, carefully pressing us through the door and closing it behind us. She looked around to make sure we were alone before heading for the far end and beginning to ascend the ladder. It was quite the site. Amelia, still in her ornate dress, with one hand holding a lantern, was climbing into the filthy and dark recesses of my barn's loft. This I would not miss. I followed without question.

Her every step was overly cautious and I followed her with a small smirk on my face. I wasn't sure if she was scared to step on a spider or scared that a misstep would send her through the floor and into the stables below, but I suspected it might be a bit of both. When I did look up, curious of our destination, it became evident. A slight glow was coming from behind one of the stacks of straw that remained after winter. As Amelia finally passed by it, I was able to fully see the 'secret'.

The Northmans and Alcide were cozily reclined in the hay of the recess, silent. I wasn't sure if they had been waiting for us to begin, or had stopped when we intruded. If only Pam were more expressive, I might have managed a guess. At least no one looked especially mad, so I took a seat a cautious distance from what seemed to be the center of the circle.

"Let's begin!" Alcide said, rubbing his hands together eagerly.

"I don't think Sookie or Amelia need to be here. It's best if they don't know anything." Eric supplied, not looking at either of the women that he had singled out.

"Alcide doesn't keep secrets from me, and I don't keep secrets from Sookie. So we're all going to know everything eventually." Amelia said triumphantly.

"Right. So…uh…When's the attack?" Alcide looked to Eric.

"Tomorrow, actually. The recent storm shouldn't have reached the coach, it should be on time."

"What's in the shipment?" I finally ask. Eric doesn't even acknowledge my voice.

"Gold, of course, and plenty of valuables." Pam answers. I can tell she's annoyed with my lack of common sense. Of course they would steal gold. What else would be worth it?

"I am concerned that Andre will accompany the coach himself. I did not wish to face him directly if I can help it." Eric was still in his own world, speaking to whoever wished to hear.

"Haven't I told you?" Pam said excitedly. "I've made sure that won't happen. Andre won't leave London unless every piece of his fortune is going with him. I've made that difficult for him."

"How did you manage that?" Eric asked with a chuckle.

"It wasn't hard at all. I've convinced the bank manager to lose some of the Marquis's paperwork. Unfortunately, his money cannot be released until everything is in order." Pam feigned pity…not very well.

"Alright then. Everything should go smoothly. We intercept the shipment on the highway and take it to Truro ourselves. Edgington has a ship waiting for my command to sail."

"Excellent." Pam smiled.

"Who's Edgington?" Amelia chirps in.

"Ah…He's a rather rich Englishman, some kind of politician, but he's living in the American south now. He's starting up some kind of agricultural endeavor. Not a fan of Le Clerq." Eric offers her. She seems pacified and nods.

"Why is he shipping so much of his money to the coast?" I was starting to feel rather dim. I wasn't seeming to grasp as much as the others.

"Revolution." Pam answered quickly and turned back to the group. Eric must have anticipated my next question and sighed.

"As you've probably already realized, Le Clerq is French. Right now, there is a lot of talk of revolution in France, it's imminent. He doesn't want to risk the implications of such an event. He's cleaned out all of his homes there, but he's not taking any chances. He's taking everything from England and some of his homes in other countries too. As far as we can tell, he's headed somewhere in the Caribbean or America."

"What a coward." I comment to myself, but Eric smiles approvingly. The group is silent for a moment, absorbing all of the information that had been shared tonight.

I was starting to feel more sympathetic to Eric's vendetta. Everyone here hated Andre, and if I was being honest, I was starting to take their side. Though after my conversation with Gran, that realization was hard to accept. I knew that eventually I would forgive Eric for his lies to me, but it worried me that he was unable to forgive Andre Le Clerq. But then again, I still was not completely sure what had happened between them.

"Well then, we are done tonight, and the fun starts tomorrow." Alcide smiles and stands up. He offers his hand to Amelia and she takes it, letting him pull her to her feet. I get up and follow as he carries her lantern and they walk back towards the ladder and descend. I don't look, but I assume that Eric and Pam are following us. This is confirmed when a hand on my arm stops me as I'm about to step into the courtyard. Pam passes by me and slips outside, leaving Eric and I alone.

"I don't want you to be a part of this." I finally turn around to face him. He is leaving no room for argument.

"It's too late for that. You involved me." I say, ripping my arm from his grasp.

"It wasn't my intention." I believe him, but it doesn't change the truth.

"Eric, what did you think would happen? Did you think that you could just seduce some ignorant country girl without her realizing what was happening? I am not a fool."

"I know that. I told you before that I didn't have a plan."

"You're full of plans." I argue. This stops him and he smiles at me. It is so hard to stay mad at him when he's smiling like that.

"Sookie, you're not coming with us tomorrow." He sounded resigned, but I couldn't understand why.

"Eric, I was never planning on participating in the actual heist."

"Yes, but…" He stopped, examining my face. "Forget I said anything." He smiled sadly.

"Alright, Eric. I should get to bed. You as well, you have a big day tomorrow," I utter hesitantly. He only nods. Without waiting for a response, I turn and leave him alone in the barn, quietly making my way through the courtyard and back into the inn.

Finally, I released myself from my stay and skirts and let the cool sheets of my bed comfort me. But I was not comforted. Eric's last comments were making me restless. My participation in the heist was limited to my silence. This was hard enough for me to essentially allow crime to take place rather than having Eric arrested. Eric didn't seem to realize this. Did he really think that I would be going with them? That I would run a coach off the road and steal money from a man I hadn't even met? No. He wouldn't think that about me, no one would.

I finally heard him pass in the hall and shut himself into his room. There was no sign of light and I assumed that he was going to take my advice and go to sleep. I should take my own advice. But it seemed impossible to forget the grave look on Eric's face. As I thought of all the plans that had been made tonight, my breath caught in my throat. I understood what he'd meant.

I stood quickly from my bed. Dressed only in my shift, I grabbed a shawl to cover my shoulders before checking the hallway for signs of life. Satisfied, I dashed across the hall and let myself into Eric's room without even knocking.

I wasn't even fazed by his lack of shirt as he laid, his hands behind his head, on the small bed. I noticed his feet perched on the footboard, too long to lie flat, and wished I could smile. But I could not. He was not yet asleep, and watched curiously as I approached and sat on the edge of the bed.

"You're not coming back." I said, looking at the floor. I heard him sigh and felt the bed shift as he sat up. His hand raised and turned my cheek to look at him, caressing my jaw with his thumb.

"No," he said simply.

"It's probably for the best," I forced myself to say, though I did believe that. This was my home. I couldn't leave Gran, no matter how much I would miss my new friends.

"I am sorry that I dragged you into this, and that it's hurting you." I flinched at that. Wasn't he hurt as well? No. No, of course not. I was just another one of the women he met along the way.

"I'll survive." I pulled his hand from my face and laid it back on the bed.

"I have no doubt about that." He smiled, but it quickly fell when he saw the one tear that had escaped my control. It would be the only one. I rose slowly and, without looking back, left him to sleep.

I no longer sought answers from my bed, instead hoping for consolation. As I lay in bed, I felt as if I was breathing for the first time all day. There was no more turmoil or anger or guilt. What I was feeling wasn't vexation anymore, it was just sorrow.

**So…I've been asked to attend a chat session about The Highwayman hosted by (dot) com. Of course, I'm totally attending. So if you have any questions for me, please come and join us. Or you can just drop by to tell me how awesome I am…that is totally acceptable. I might give out some hints about what's coming up, or I might spoil the ending completely. But you won't know unless you show up!**

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	10. Departures

Anne awoke long before dawn to start a day of laundry. I know, because I was awake as well. Though I had no important purpose of occupying such a state, I was just scared. Today, I would have to say goodbye to a friend who I had come to care about, as well as her fiancé. Today, I would say goodbye to a woman who I was terrified, and also slightly in awe, of. And today, I would have to say goodbye to a man that somehow frustrated me so much that I hadn't noticed when he had worked his way into my heart. Needless to say, I did not want today to come. But wishing did not stop it from coming.

Anne was still the only one awake when I rolled out of my bed. I let the feel of the cool wood floor on my feet ground me for a few moments before dressing. I set aside my usual clothes and instead donned the gown that Amelia had given me several days ago. If I had to say goodbye, at least I would send them off looking my best. It was the least I could do.

It didn't surprise me that everyone wanted to sleep in, they had a busy day ahead of them. So when Gran found me in the kitchen, still early, it was her company that soothed me into the afternoon. She had been surprised to hear that we were going to be losing some of our guests, but she knew we couldn't keep them forever. It was a truth I was having a hard time accepting.

When the house was finally filled with bodies, busying for departure, it was hard to deny the inevitable. Pam did not stop for anything. She made several trips between the inn and the stables, preparing horses. Eric was quiet and stayed in his room, but I could hear him moving about. It was Amelia who was the first to confront me.

"Come with me," She whispered as she passed me, leaving the dining room. I smiled at her attempt to be sneaky, but followed without question. She led me up the stairs and immediately turned into her room. Her large chest was empty, laid out on the bed were gowns and shoes and hats, a collection the size of which I had never seen.

"I cannot take it all," She lamented as she drew her fingers across the embroidered edge of a gown.

"I'm sorry. I know you love them." I stepped up behind her to pat her shoulder. Apparently this getaway was going to be harder on her that she had anticipated.

"Will you care for them in my stead?" She pleaded, tears in her eyes. I sighed and nodded.

"As if they were my own," I confirmed. She finally burst into tears and clung to me. When she calmed, I helped her pack her favorites into a heartbreakingly small bag.

"You'll be able to buy more when you get to America." We sat on the floor, the small sack between us and the dresses to be left were hidden behind us.

"They won't be Parisian."

"Perhaps the fashions of America will be a good change. And you can always order dresses from Paris if you really need them."

"I could, couldn't I? I will need a few. Alcide informs me that this Edgington fellow is quite social. He has very grand parties." She was beginning to look hopeful, and I envied her for that. "But you won't be there to enjoy them with me."

"Perhaps I will come, some day. Jason is there. I do miss my brother. But I just can't leave Gran, you know that."

"Aren't you sad for Eric to leave? I know you love him."

"I will bear it." I smiled and stood, and she followed my lead. She gave me a hug that surprised me with its force. She was a powerful little thing. She finally stepped back and handed me the sack. We smiled sadly at each other before I left, closing the door behind me.

I quickly descended the stairs and entered Alcide's room without knocking. The time was getting close and he seemed to be ready and waiting. He was sitting on the bed, his hands clasped and his head hung in deceptively relaxed pose. He looked up when I came in and I tossed the bag to him. He held it for a moment and tested it's weight before smiling.

"I didn't really think she would be able to do it."

"I had to help her. I told her you would buy her some new dresses in America."

"I'm sure I will have to buy her half of the dresses in the south to make up for this. But I still expected more of a fight."

"Well, it is a surprise what we'll sacrifice for love." He chuckled and nodded as I excused myself. As I slowly made my way down the hall I could hear Amelia announcing to Mrs. Fant that she would be taking a walk, as it was such a nice afternoon. I heard no reply and figured the chances were good that Mrs. Fant was asleep anyway. Amelia passed me slowly on the way to the courtyard and squeezed my hand quickly in a final goodbye. She would not be returning from her walk.

I took a seat in the dining room and waited for the next goodbye. The hardest. Pam and Eric came down the stairs at the same time, a wrapped bundle in Eric's arms. They passed through the dining room and Eric avoided my eye. Pam, on the other hand, sought it out. She paused and when Eric stopped to silently question her, she dismissed him.

"I'll be right there. Give us a moment." He seemed reluctant to leave, but didn't argue with her. I wouldn't have either. After he was gone, Pam slowly approached me and I had the strangest image of one of the barn cats stalking a rat. I was the rat in this scenario.

"You're wrong," She spoke, standing over me.

"I am?" I wouldn't argue, but I was hoping for clarification.

"Yes. My brother is not the person you think he is. He is not a common criminal or villain." I tried to find some kind of response but none came. She continued. "He saved me, you know. I have a knack for creating messes. Usually I can clean them up myself but a few years ago, I needed Eric. I prefer women, and I chose the wrong one. A Miss Sophie-Anne Le Clerq." She gave me a significant look and I nodded.

"Her husband is not one to be a made a fool of, and Sophie was anything but subtle. Everyone knew she was having an affair, and my brother took the blame. Le Clerq was all too happy to lie, it would have been worse to reveal that Sophie had sought out another women. He would have been the laughing stock of Paris. Everything Eric's done since has been to survive, and you have no right to fault him for that."

Eric was…innocent. At least of this charge. It was the very truth that he had tried to tell me, but I had found it hard to believe. At least I now knew why he had not explained the circumstances. It was not his story to tell.

"I do not know what to..."

"Don't say anything." She cut me off. "I would do anything for my brother. He doesn't want to see you discontent by telling you stories that upset your basic understanding of the world. I, on the other hand, have no problem with it. You judged him harshly based on the actions of a nameless few of his profession and I fear you've hurt him by doing so. Frankly, I'm glad we're leaving you behind."

She turned without saying goodbye and left the room, following in the direction that Eric had taken. I sat at my table, silent and contemplative. Pam was a strange woman. Even stranger was the fact that I had been so important as to warrant her time and clear disdain. Although, I would have done the same for Jason. I must have sat their longer than I thought when Gran came in.

"Are you going to see them off?" She asked kindly as she held the door to the courtyard open. I passed through it quickly with her behind me. Mr. Compton was helping bring the horses out and Eric attached their sacks securely to the saddles. Gran meandered over toward her new favorite guest, Pam. She'd been captivated since the night the Pam had arrived, curious about her style and demeanor. I think, in a way, Gran was shocked and envious at the same time. As she began her farewells and well wishes to the short-lived oddity of the house, I slipped over to the other departing horseman.

I approaches slowly as Eric pulled at all the fastening of the reins, double checking Mr. Compton's work. He did not look at me for the longest time and for a few moments I stood in silence at his side, wondering if he would ever acknowledge my presence.

"Eric," I finally addressed him, but I had no hope of finishing that sentence. My voice seemed to break the trance that we were both in and he brought his hand up to the back of my neck and pulled me a bit closer, bringing his face to the top of my head and kissing the curls there. My hand rested on his chest and for only a moment, hidden partially behind the horse, we were together for the last time.

"Goodbye, Sookie," he whispered into my hair before backing off and mounting the horse. I could not bring myself to answer him, instead sadly smiling up at him. I finally stepped away, going to stand by Gran as she held Pam's horse while she mounted. At this moment, a third steed and rider emerged from the stables.

"Oh, Mr. Pardloe! I did not realize you were leaving us as well." Gran seemed even more forlorn at the prospect of losing Alcide as well. In her defense, he had been a pleasant addition to the house.

"Yes, I'm afraid so, Madame. It is much more enjoyable to have company on a long ride, I'm afraid I can't let the opportunity pass." He reached down and took Gran's hand, kissing it in farewell. I stole the moment to once again glance at Eric, but his eyes were already on the road.

"May you all have a safe journey!" Gran waved to the trio. Eric raced off, closely followed by Alcide. Pam paused for a moment, tipping her hat to me with a small smirk before following.

They would intercept Amelia not far down the road. And none of them would be coming back. With luck, they would be on the ocean before the absence of Amelia or the coach was noticed. Although, before that would happen, they would need to steal the coach, which was the root of my worry.

All afternoon, I was consumed with the effort of keeping my thoughts and emotions in line. If I cracked, their plan could be exposed and they would all suffer the consequences. For their sake, I needed to maintain my composure. In an effort to distract my worrisome mind, I helped Anne with the laundry for as long as I could bear. The constant stirring and wringing of bed sheets and winter clothing only seemed to distract my hands. By dinner, my hands were raw and my thoughts dark.

The house was quiet, so my distraction went unnoticed until all had arranged themselves around the table.

"Isn't Ms. Broadway joining us?" Gran asked from her head of the table.

"No." My voice cracked, the word coming out as a whisper. I cleared my throat and tried again. "No, she was tired after her walk and has retired early."

Mrs. Fant didn't seem to suspect anything and continued eating. Gran smiled and passed a bowl to Anne, who was sitting with us now that there were so few in the house.

It had been my one job, one line to say, and now it was done. Having no purpose set forth for me, I slipped deeper into the pit of thoughts that I had teetered on the edge of all day. The sun was setting, leaving with it was the certainty that all would be well. The heist would take place in the dark, which was now here, in a place only vaguely disclosed to me. No one would be returning with news after it was done. Amelia had promised to write from America, but that would be months before I received it…if ever. The idea that they could somehow fail and I would never see or hear from any of them again was slowing attacking the façade I had built to fool Gran and Mrs. Fant.

Sobs were rising in my chest, but before they could surface, I stood and excused myself from the table.

"I am afraid I will have to follow Amelia's example. I've worn myself out. Excuse me, please." Gran nodded, somewhat concerned and Mrs. Fant didn't seem to notice that I'd spoken. Perhaps the old lady was part deaf. It would not have surprised me.

As quickly as I could, I was up in my room. I wanted so badly to cry until the crushing pain in my chest dulled and vanished, but I could not produce a single tear. I tried pacing and clinging to my pillow, but sorrow didn't come. Every time I peeked out the window, the sky had darkened more and brought the terrible hour closer. When would it be? Had it started already? I didn't know, but I needed to.

With a great burst of light, I realized that the crushing could not be stopped with tears, but with action. I could not sit and wait with no hope of knowing if my friends would survive their attack. My heart even ached at the thought of Pam injured. She, too, had become a part of me, albeit a strange one. All of them had become essential pieces of the puzzle that was my life.

My mind was set.

Before I had ever realized what I was doing, my hooded cloak was tied around my shoulders and I was headed as quietly down the stairs as I could. Dinner had been over for some time and Mrs. Fant was retired for the night. Anne and Gran were in the kitchen, their voices softly carrying up the stairs.

Skipping steps, I quickly reached the bottom of the stairs and instinctively went for the hall closet. Tucked safely in the back, behind old cloaks and umbrellas was my father's musket. It was old, but had been kept well. As inappropriate as Jason was, he had taught me to use it, but this was not my intention. The time it took to reload a gun was time that could not be wasted in a fight such as the one I was seeking out. This one was already loaded, and if it was needed by my friends, I would have it for them.

Though it seemed a chance to cut through the dining room and out into the courtyard, it was the shortest distance to the stables from here. I made the dash quickly and slipped out the door as quietly as possible. Ducking as I passed windows, I was soon in the barn and had located my second piece of loot.

Amelia's horse was happy to have company and greedily accepted the scratch I offered him. Without complaint, he allowed me to quickly saddle him and lead him from the barn and into the back meadows. I couldn't take the chance of alerting Le Clerq's coach or any other travelers that there was foul play afoot. We would have to take the long way, avoiding the main road and heading directly for the small wood that would be the scene of the robbery.

I led the horse slowly away from the inn until we were out of earshot. Without further ado, we took off. It had been some time since I had raced on a horse, but even in the dread of my current situation I was able to enjoy the exhilaration it brought. I was full of purpose yet again.

Though I was scared of what I would find, and what state it would be in, I could not get the horse to carry me as fast as I wished. When we finally broke the tree line, I realized I still did not know where I was heading. I quickly pulled the horse to a stop and tried to listen for any sign of a direction. I sat there for several moments, unsure of which direction to head. Crucial minutes passed before I shook myself and realized my own stupidity. I wasn't listening hard enough.

Without ceremony, I dropped my mental barriers and let all in that would come. I was reaching out, welcoming anything that I could hear. I was stretching, searching for what felt like an eternity before I finally heard it. Amelia. Her blaring thoughts, once such a hindrance, were now my savior. I followed them, smiling as they got louder, but cringing when their content became clear. Worry. Anger. A strong sense of uselessness that I recognized so well from just earlier today. The heist was underway, and it was not going well.

As fast I could, I rode to her, ignoring all other thoughts that seeped in. She was the loudest and brightest beacon. She did not notice as I approached from her side. I could see from the distance that she had positioned herself with a large tree between her and road, but her glace was unwavering as she leaned around it. As I got closer, I could hear the clang of steel on steel and shouts to my left. I didn't look yet. Not until I was there.

Amelia did not register my approach until I was upon her and I was bringing the horse to a hasty stop.

"What are you doing here?" She gasped, helping me down from my mount.

"Where else would I be?" I asked, surprised at my own playfulness at a time like this.

"There were more of them than we expected. " There were tears in her eyes as she once again brought them to rest on the road, our position hidden by the trees. I followed her gaze this time, and gasped. Several bodies lay on the ground, but thankfully, none of ours. All three of my robbers were still mounted and each battled two foes with swords. Two others stood back, guarding their charge and watching their comrades with grins. They expected to win.

Perhaps the most disturbing of all that I saw was the uniforms that the guards wore. They were not private goons employed by Le Clerq. He had hired only the best. Red coats, the King's army, were personally escorting the wealth of a French thug out of the country.

I started toward the scene, brushing off Amelia's grab to keep me with her. My gun was, in fact, needed and I would make sure that Eric would have it. I kept in the trees for as long as possible, hiding and waiting for a chance to advance, when the risk of harm would be at its least. Finally, Eric struck a deadly blow to one of his opponents, this was my chance. I stepped out of the trees and was about to make a run to him when my worst fear came to pass.

The man that Eric had wounded was not yet dead. He should have been slumped over his horse, perhaps already on the ground, but he had a mind to take Eric with him. But Eric had already turned away to fight off the second of his attackers. He did not see as the man raised his rapier for a final thrust to the heart. I wanted to scream at Eric to turn but I knew it would be too late, so I did the unthinkable.

I raised my musket and aimed as my brother had taught me to. Without a moment's hesitation, I pulled the trigger and my target ceased his attack, moving no more. The gunshot had stunned all those on the road and all eyes flew to me. I glanced around, my defiant face falling on a man, clutching his arm. Pam had nearly killed him and surely would if the fight continued. This man knew and feared the future before I had taken my shot. Now, he was resolute.

"Retreat!" He called out to his comrades who all seemed taken aback. "It's a second wave! Retreat!"

Without further ado, the man spun and rode back the way from which he'd come, the other soldiers quick on his heels. Apparently, the high ranks of the British army were not as fearless as I had been led to believe.

Before I could even turn to smile at Eric in the joy of victory, he was upon me. His horse had quickly closed the distance between us and his arm reached down to capture me in its grasp, pulling me to his lap. He did not stop, making his way into the trees. Before we had left the scene completely, he whipped his head around and shouted to Pam, "Go! I will catch up!"

With that, we were lost in the trees. I tried to stretch and see her, but was jostled too violently by the hurried pace that Eric sought. When the hope of even seeing Amelia was gone, I settled a bit in my seat. I looked up to the face of the man that held my body to his, but he did not lower his gaze. I was unfazed by this, he was alive, and that was all that mattered.

I realized that for at least the ride back to the inn, he was mine, and I would not waste this opportunity. I buried my head into his neck and dug my fingers into the fabric of his coat. Small hairs scratched my face and I basked in it. His grip only tightened.

Too soon, Eric brought the steed to a stop behind the barn and helped me down. I watched as he fumed, his chin set as he tied the horse to a post. Without a word, he grasped my hand and pulled me into the barn. His pull propelled me forward and I turned to find him right in front of me. His mouth opened and his hands drew up in anger. I knew I was about to receive a scolding that even Gran would have been envious of, but I was saved by a cough from the stable master's quarters.

Eric stopped short and I let out the breath I had be holding with a small smirk. His eyes burned into Bill's door and almost felt bad for the door. It had done nothing wrong. Finally Eric moved, his hand around my wrist again, pulling me after him. When we reached the ladder to the loft, he motioned for me to lead. I did so without complaint. When I had scaled the last rung, I turned to wait for his arrival. Before half of his body had surfaced through the hole, he started.

"What the hell were you thinking!" Yes, I believe he was mad after all.

"You are quiet welcome." I crossed my arms over my chest and lifted my chin.

"Excuse me?" He asked in a whisper that did nothing to contain his rage.

"I saved your life. That man meant his rapier right for your heart."

"It makes no difference!" He shouted. "I told you to stay here! You could have been hurt!"

"I was hurt! You did it yourself when you left." I hated the cold feeling that snaked down my spine from the spite in my own voice. It was true though, he had hurt me, and it seemed I was now trying to cause him an equal share.

"It has never been my intention to hurt you. I did not want you involved in this at all. I did what was necessary by ending this." He wasn't yelling anymore, but his voice was anything but calm.

"Then why are you still here?" I spat at him in challenge. When I got my answer, it was not one I expected or was prepared for.

Instead of words, his mouth took a different route, heading straight for mine. His lips clung to mine with such force that I was almost scared that they would never come apart again. Although I wouldn't have minded that so much. His hands gripped my shoulders and pulled me closer, but threatened to push me away at any moment. That I could not abide. I brought my hands up to circle his neck and keep me there with him as we continued to kiss. With my permission granted, he lowered his arms, circling them around me and pulling me ever closer. All the while I basked in the soft tugs and massage of his mouth against my own. I had forgotten the exact feeling of it from the other day, but I cannot imagine it had been this enjoyable, or else I would never have stopped him.

No, this time it was different. I had lost him once and now all I could think about was how very fortunate I was to have him in my arms again. He seemed to be feeling the same.

Warmth was spreading all over my body and the sheer joy of having him in my arms. I couldn't control my hands as they started to work their way over his shoulders and arms and finding his chest. They couldn't seem to believe he was real either, they wanted more proof. Eric's arms tightened and he lifted me off the ground and pulled me to him as he lowered himself to the floor, myself in his lap. Like the day in the barn, his mouth descended from mine and found my neck. He kissed and sucked with such fervor that I was momentarily frightened that he had not eaten and had planned me for his supper. But I quickly banished that though, obviously he was the victim of another type of hunger, and I was beginning to feel it too.

I couldn't say for certain, but it was likely that very hunger that kept me from stopping him when he went for the laces on the back of my bodice. He had never stopped his assault on my neck, he had even ventured brazenly lower when I felt his fingers begin to fumble along my spine. I smiled into his neck, certain that he would never find the right lace. To my utter shock, my bodice soon lost shape as the laces let free. Eric stopped for a moment to look at me, surely feeling my body freeze as his actions. He smirked at me, knowing that I had doubted him, but he didn't say anything, and I didn't wish him to. Instead he only looked into my eyes and found within them whatever he was looking for. He smiled and gently tugged the bodice over my head rather than wasting the time necessary to completely unlace it.

Though it was mostly dark in the barn, I felt the greatest desire to cover myself. The thin material of my shift still covered me, but I had never been this bare in front of a man before. But before I could do as was proper, Eric was once again kissing me. He brushed his own coat off of his shoulders and pressed us together. It was strange that I should shiver from the heat of his body that made its way into mine, but then again, I was experiencing so much that was new.

For so long, we were content like this. Our breath mingled with each others, arms keeping us so close. His cheek brushed against mine, the scratch of the short hairs felt like the softest down on my face and neck. We each grabbed handfuls of whatever we could find of the other; hair, cloth, or skin. But before I had my fill, we each began to want more.

Eric laid me back on the pile of our clothes and hay that surrounded us. With some help from me, my body was freed of my skirts and he kicked off his boots. The soft thud of each one made me giggle, which only cause him to chuckle and hide his head in my breasts to quiet them. However, he soon had other work in that area. His tongue and hands teased me as I let him settle between my legs and pulled his shirt free of his waist. He obligingly sat up enough to divest of the fabric before returning to his task.

I was breathing harder and as a soft moan left my lips I covered my mouth with my hands in embarrassment. He only smiled and pulled them away, kissing them each before returning to the lips that had been lonely for several minutes now.

I knew what was coming when his hands began to raise the hem of my shift, and this time I did not fight it. I relaxed into his touch and he understood my consent. His fingers tracing a long, burning trail up my hips and sides as he pulled the garment up and over my head.

I knew he would want to look at my bare body before him, but I could not even think of it without blushing. To prevent it, as soon as I was free, I reached up and pulled him to me, my breasts flush against his chest. His didn't seem to mind this too much either. For some time now, I had been aware of his excitement between us, but now I wanted to see him as well. In a movement that even shocked myself, I reached down and untied the cords of the last bit of clothing between us. He did not protest, helping me push the breeches down his legs and off.

When we finally lay exposed to one another, he slowed himself, kissing up my collar tenderly until he was once again in front of me. I smiled shyly up at him, unsure if he could even make out my face in the near dark. What small light there was caught his eyes and we looked into each other. I felt his cool breath brush across my cheeks that tingled with the blood of my blush. I realized that he was waiting for me to make the first move, to give him yet another acknowledgement of my willingness to go forward. I reached up and wove my fingers into his hair, bringing his lips to mine. Again, he proceeded slowly, his kisses warm but cautious. Finally, I felt his hands on my knees, pulling them to rest on his hips. His weight settled onto me and I felt his so near to my entrance. My breathing sped up as Eric reached between us to position himself and slowly began to enter me.

I was overcome with every sensation; enjoyment, disbelief, want, shame, excitement, and even pain. After a couple of moments, it passed and I was swept into the feeling of Eric and I together. I tried to move with him, to show him how good it all felt to me. He seemed to understand and his motions quickened. I began to kiss any skin I could find; his neck and shoulders and even his hand as it made its way up to my hair. My own hands curled around him and dug into the backside I had been secretly craving to touch for so long. His movements doubled in speed again and his head dropped into my shoulder, his breathing rapid. His hand left my hip and wove between us, finding and caressing such a delicate spot.

I couldn't think anymore. All I wanted was Eric. More specifically: his body and the pleasure it brought. I was moaning again but I couldn't find it within myself to care, only praying that he wouldn't stop. To my great satisfaction, he did not. So quickly, I reached a peak and I had not known existed. My legs quivered around him and I tried to hold him closer, my calls muffled into his shoulder. I bit down into the flesh, spurring his own finish. He groaned so deeply that I felt its vibrations through my own body and he stilled, his body collapsing on mine.

For several moments, we both stayed as we were, catching our breath. He rolled off of me and pulled me into his side, my head on his shoulder. I wished that we could stay like this forever. That he would hold me and stroke my hair and skin as he did now. But I knew that was not our fate. We had pretended long enough. I only gave myself another moment to memorize the sound of his heart and the feel of his rough fingers across my hip. I knew I needed to break this dream, but he beat me.

"I'm still here because I love you." His words did not shock me and he knew I felt the same. But it did not change anything.

"But you have to go again." It wasn't a question. He had told the others that he would join them. He had to leave.

"Yes. I need to go." I turned my head so he would not see the pain in my eyes. I felt him shift and his hand brought my eyes to his. "But I will come back."

"When?" I would not allow myself to hope yet.

"I have to see the others to the ship. I need to know they're safely away. Edgington will take care of them when they reach America, but I need to get them there. If all goes well, I could be back in…two days."

"That soon?" I could not hide the ecstasy that spread across my face and he chuckle at how much my mood had brightened.

"Yes. I'm a fast rider and I'll stop for nothing if it means you'll be here to welcome me."

"Well it is quite short notice. I might have previous engagements. I believe Mr. Compton may have extended an invitation to something or other." I pretended to look pensive and innocent. Eric pulled me tighter and growled as well as any wild dog. Perhaps I would tame him when he came back to me.

He stayed a bit longer, kissing and touching me. I suspected that he was trying to memorize my body, as I was frantically trying to do the same. But soon he could wait no longer and rose to begin dressing. When he was nearly ready, I tried to stall him.

"Two days? Do you promise?" I sat up, holding my shift over my bits in an attempt at belated decency.

"I shall try my very hardest." He smiled as he pulled on a boot.

"I'll wait in the courtyard all afternoon if I must."

"Let us not be too optimistic. I will arrive by night at the earliest." He chuckled as his second boot came into place.

"What if there is trouble? You could be attacked by wolves. Or Quinn could cause trouble at the port. Andre could come looking for you himself." Why must I be wracked with worry every time he leaves me? It seemed so unreasonable that he should always be in danger.

He could see the worry starting to surface within me and leaned down, brushing his lips over my forehead and holding me for a moment.

"Lover, I will come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way."

**So, I spared you an Author's Note at the beginning of this chapter so you could just get to reading. I owed you that much. But now I'm going to ramble.**

**First off, this chapter is dedicated to JecaNS. I promised her as much so she wouldn't tell anyone my horrible secrets. =P**

**Second, I would just like to give a HUGE THANK YOU to everyone who contributed to or just came and chatted with me on the Fangreader's chat session about The Highwayman. I had a great time! It was incredibly intimidating and exciting and couldn't have asked for a better experience. If you haven't checked out the blog, it's filled with all sorts of goodies for us fanfiction addicts:**

**(dot)blogspot(dot)com**

**Also, I'm super sorry for the HUGE delay in getting this chapter out, I hope the fact that it's about as long as two of my previous chapters softens the blow. The gap was caused by some huge changes in my RL that took some getting used to before I could immerse myself in a different world. Also, it was really hard to write my first lemon, so I might have been avoiding it. Anywhozies: I hope you can all forgive me and continue to enjoy the story.**

**Second to lastly, if you were curious, that last line is actually a quote from the poem by Alfred Noyes that this story is based off of. I can't tell you enough how beautiful it is and how much I think you should read it. =)**

**Lastly, TRUE BLOOD IS BACK! Just needed to share that excitement. I hope everyone is as happy as me about it.**

**If it makes any difference in your decision to leave a review: I'm seriously biting my nails (one of them is down to the nub!) about posting my first lemon. I'd appreciate some feedback to know how it was. If you people tell me I need to go out and get some more lovin' cuz I obviously don't know what I'm talking about…I will begrudgingly submit to your suggestions. *wink***

**That's it. I'm done. I hope everyone is enjoying the story and has a GREAT week ahead of you!**

**HUGS!**


	11. Days in Waiting

The day after Eric left me was torture. I would have been perfectly content to wonder around all day with a glazed look in my eye, but it seemed the universe had other plans.

I slept in late, which was to be expected since I had… spent so much energy in the pursuits of the day. Breakfast was over, but Gran found me some food that I ravenously devoured in the kitchen. She eyed me curiously and I scrunched up my eyebrows in a silent question.

"You're in a better mood today," she said cautiously.

"Better?" I asked.

"Yes. You were a bit gloomy yesterday. You weren't well at dinner." Oh yes, that had been before Eric had promised to return to me, I image I had been quite bleak, indeed.

"Oh, yes. I'm feeling much better. Just needed a good night's sleep."

"I'm glad to hear that, dear. I was concerned you were upset at Mr. Northman's departure."

"Pardon? Why would I be upset by his departure?" I asked in shock.

"Sookie, I'm not yet blind. You both seemed quite off balance around each other. And if I know anything, that kind of behavior is much more dangerous than whispers in corridors or longing glances." She took a sip of tea, her gaze unrelenting.

"It seems I can't slip anything past you." I spoke so softly in defeat.

"I don't know why you try."

"The sport. There's so little to occupy my time around here." I smiled at her.

"Oh that will change very soon." She seemed to shudder a bit.

"Why do you say that?" I asked, dread beginning to crawl up my spine. Had she heard something perhaps? Had the heist become gossip so quickly?

"You'll be lucky if Mrs. Fant makes it to dinner without realizing that Amelia didn't come back from her evening stroll." With that, she stood and left the room, leaving me with my jaw agape.

It turns out that I was not lucky. True, I had suspected as much, but I pegged Mrs. Fant as being much less observant that she really was. We didn't even make it to lunch, let alone dinner.

"Do you have any idea what her father will do to me?" Mrs. Fant cried as she furiously fanned herself on the sofa in the parlor. She had been at this for a good half hour. As soon as Anne finished packing Mrs. Fant's things, she would be departing for London with the unhappy news.

"I'm sure he'll be understanding. There was no way you could have known her plans." Gran tried to sooth her.

"No! He'll throw me to the streets for this! I'm too old, I'll not survive it!" Her breaths were becoming more ragged and I wondered if perhaps her fainting would not be for the best. Gran was obviously of a different opinion and urged Mrs. Fant to stand up and go to the courtyard for fresh air. I smiled sadly as she passed but she did not seem to notice.

I followed quietly and watched as Gran calmed Mrs. Fant and the footmen prepared the carriage for departure. It was all a very melancholy sight. She was our last remaining guest, and without her, the house would seem even more empty.

When the departure was becoming imminent, Anne came out and began to dawdle at tasks in the courtyard. Though nice, the stones did not need to be swept so thoroughly. It was becoming more and more clear that she only wished to catch glimpses of Liam.

"Anne." Gran called to her eventually. Anne quickly stopped her work and came to stand in front of us.

"Yes, ma'am?" She asked.

"You'd best go pack your things as well." Anne seemed quite confused and worried by this, so Gran continued. "Mrs. Fant isn't well to travel alone, she'll need someone to accompany her."

"You...you wish me to go with them?" Anne asked sheepishly.

"Yes, we won't need your help here now that we have no guests. And I have my suspicions that you'll enjoy the journey." Gran smiled and Anne curtsied before scurrying into the house to prepare. I glanced at Gran and she smirked.

"I told you I wasn't blind." She said before going over to assist Mrs. Fant.

George was leading the horses from the barn and I had a small moment of panic, realizing that I had stolen one just last night. But it was all for naught, both horses emerged just as they should have with no signs of the late night ride. I wondered errantly if Eric had taken care of it before leaving. I snapped out of my musing and went over to assist George as Liam secured Mrs. Fant's trunk to the back of the carriage. I smiled and took one of the reigns from him.

"Ah, thank you Ms. Stackhouse. I appreciate the help, what with Mr. Compton's absence and all."

"Oh? I didn't realize he was missing."

"Yes ma'am," George answered. "Been gone all morning, no one seems to know where." He said as he continued to harness the animals.

"That doesn't seem like him at all." And it wasn't. He had been with us for years and always helpful and dependable. "He said nothing about it last night?"

"No, ma'am. Though I did hear him up rather late last night, into the morning too." George took the reigns from me and finished harnessing the horses as I was deep in thought about Mr. Compton. Surely he couldn't have been aware of any of the events happening in the barn last night...

Soon enough, the carriage finally made its way out of the courtyard and down the road. Anne waved for as long as she could see us, but eventually, they were gone.

The house had not been this empty since Jason left for the war. Neither Gran nor I spoke a word to each other, choosing to slip silently back into the house and to our own tasks. Gran disappeared into the kitchen to prepare a modest dinner for the two of us while I began setting the guest rooms to rights in hopes of more guests. Though my hands were kept busy in the rooms of the inn, my mind was at the coast. Perhaps by now, Eric had joined the rest of the party. If I was lucky, he had already seen them off and was making his way back to me; though I knew that was not likely.

I smiled at the thought of Amelia and Alcide, finally free. I knew they would be happy together in America. Even if I hadn't been able to read their thoughts, their love for each other would have been clear. What I wasn't sure about, was if Eric could be happy here. From what I understood, he had not lived in one place since long before the war, perhaps not since his childhood. I didn't doubt that Gran would welcome his as a permanent guest, she had been wanting me to find a happy match for years. But try as I might, I could not imagine Eric a content country bumpkin. It was not in his nature. I hoped I was wrong.

When all the rooms were returned to their proper states, I went down to find Gran reading by the kitchen fire. Night had fallen on the inn and the small room glowed with life, like no other in the house. I smiled thinking of all the times I had spent in this kitchen with Gran. I sat down at the table and watched her read. She knew I was there, but it seemed we were both content to let the quiet of the house linger a bit longer. It had been some time since we had been alone here. But so much had changed since then.

"Do you suppose Jason found a girl in America? Maybe that's why he stayed." I spoke softly, careful not to break the calm of the house.

"If I know my grandson, I'm sure he's found plenty of girls in America." She smirked in my direction as I let out a shocked half-laugh. It took several moments for my astonishment at her comment to fade.

"I just can't image he'd leave us without a reason."

"Is that what you think he did? Left us?" She set down her book and stared curiously at me.

"He did in a way. He always wrote about how much he wanted to come home. And then suddenly, he didn't. Doesn't it seem odd that he should change so quickly?" I asked.

"Not at all. From what I know of war, it can change a person beyond recognition. But then again, it doesn't always take something so great as war. It's in our nature to change and adapt to our circumstances. It's how we survive. And if Jason's survival, and happiness, are reliant upon his staying in America, for any reason, then I can't fault him for that." I didn't know what to say, so I stayed silent instead, and Gran continued. "I give you the same benefit. You're a smart girl, Sookie. I trust you to make the best decisions for yourself, whatever they may be."

"Whatever my choice?" I challenged.

"I suppose." She seemed in thought for a moment. "Especially if that decision were to marry Sam and provide me with a inordinate amount of great-grandchildren."

"I would hate to disappoint you Gran, but I don't believe that will happen."

"It appears my only hope to fill this empty house is the prospect of more guests." She sighed dramatically.

"Then I hope for your sake that we have some soon." I laughed and left the kitchen to find a book to occupy my evening.

As it turned out, the hopes I expressed were the worst I could have chosen.

Gran joined me to read in the parlor that night. We sat across from each other and occasionally shared a passage to entertain each other. The night was quiet, too easily broken by the sounds of approaching hooves. I heard them first and my heart leapt at the thought the Eric had returned. I was once again heartbroken when I realized that it was much too soon, by a full day at least. Gran heard them a few moments later and smiled, standing to smooth her skirts. As the sound came closer, it became apparent that it was not just the clatter of a horse, but the clamor of many. Several riders approaching fast from the road. Gran seemed to notice this as well and shared a curious glance with me.

She waited in the light of the hall for the guests to reach the courtyard. When they did, there were several moments silence before a hard, loud knock came to the door. I was already becoming suspicious of the callers, but when Gran opened the door, cold fear washed down my spine.

Several redcoats stood outside the door.

"Yes, gentlemen, how can I help you this evening?" Gran asked as innocently as she was. The men were not as polite. They pushed passed her and came to stand in the dining room, looking about curiously. I stayed in the hall, trying to be invisible.

"This is an Inn isn't it? House us." A man with long black hair and an angular face sneered at Gran. He appeared to be of the highest rank.

"Uh, of course. How many rooms will you need?" Gran asked, trying to remain polite, but I could see that she was becoming more and more uncomfortable with their presence.

"All of them." He answered. He motioned forward with his hand and several men came around him and dispersed in several directions. He continued to stare at Gran. "Is there anyone here?"

"No, actually. Our last guests left this morning. All of the rooms are vacant." Gran was beginning to understand that these were not ordinary guests. She was no longer the hospitable inn keeper, but the owner of a home invaded by soldiers. Her stance straightened and her jaw set.

Several more men entered from the courtyard and it became even more clear how bad this night was becoming. I recognized one of the men, and it was only a matter of time before he recognized me too.

"The barn is empty. Servants quarters too." The man spoke, taking off his hat and shaking it, a bit of straw dropped to the floor. "We'll have to wait."

"I expected as much." The leader sighed. He walked over to the small bar and began to fill himself a mug of ale. It was at this moment that the second man lifted his head in my direction. Instantly, it was clear he had not forgotten me. The smile that spread over his face was the most disturbing I had seen.

"Well, Malcolm, it looks like there's a bit of good news after all." The man continued to smile as he spoke to the leader while he drank.

"What's that Rene?" He followed Rene's eyes and glanced curiously at me before dismissing me and focusing on his drink. Rene lifted his finger and motioned for me to step into the room. I closed my eyes to steel myself for a moment. I knew it would be useless to fight or run. I slowly stepped into the light of the dining room.

"We have ourselves a murderess, a collaborator of the heist." Each of his words dripped with satisfaction as they revealed my secret and brought Malcolm's attention back to me.

"What's this now?" Malcolm asked excitedly as he stepped forward to get a better look.

"She was there last night. Shot James right off his horse. Would have gotten me next if we hadn't retreated."

"May I suggest you don't remind me of your cowardice? Andre will blame me for recruiting such incompetent men." He took another pull of his drink and looked back to me. "At least we have one of the culprits. And I believe I have a use for her."

He motioned to two of the soldiers. They both stepped forward and I silently wondered if they were brothers. Not only did they share features, but they both possessed a massive height and bulk that could only be hereditary. They each grabbed an arm and began to pull me from the room.

"Stop this! You have no right to treat us thus." Gran yelled and made a move to come towards me. Before she could get very far, Rene had grabbed her and pushed her backwards into the wall. As her head hit the wood, she made a horrible grunting sound and collapsed to the floor as I was forcibly pulled from the room.

"Gran!" I yelled past my two handlers as they dragged me up the stairs. I got no response. I began to cry and desperately reached out with my mind to find her warm thoughts. I found plenty of minds that I did not wish to examine further, and one that was too quiet. Her mind was slower than usual and her thoughts were clouded with worry about me. She knew she couldn't help me any longer, but was praying that I would be protected somehow.

I wanted so dearly to go to her and hold her hand and tell her that I would be safe, even if it was a lie. But I could not get away from the brothers. Sobs wracked my body as her thoughts became incoherent and finally stopped.

My mind awakened a bit to my own situation as my body was being bended and pulled into an unnatural position. Malcolm had accompanied us upstairs and was overseeing the brothers as they bound my wrists and tied me to the post of Amelia's old bed. I was crying so hard that I couldn't scream at him as I wished to. Instead, I fought at my bindings, hoping I could break free to scratch his eyes out.

The brothers finally finished and left the room. Malcolm stayed and perched himself on Amelia's desk. He remained silent as I continued to cry. He must have sat there for hours. At times he watched me, at others he occupied himself with some errant papers that had been left on the desk. Against my will, my eyes finally dried. Without my sobbing, the room was silent. Several minutes had passed when he decided to speak.

"Nothing else bad has to happen." He said from the desk. He let that sink in for a few moments before standing and walking closer to me. "All you have to do is tell me where Northman is, and you and your Gran will be free to go."

"You're a very good liar." I managed to spit at him.

"I've had a lot of practice."He smirked. "In any case, I figured you would be uncooperative. No one ever likes to talk to people in uniform. I don't understand why. I think I look quite fetching." He pulled at his collar and stood a bit straighter, as if asking for my agreement.

"Maybe if you'd earned it, it would be more reassuring. Andre giving you the clothes doesn't make you a soldier. You're just a paid hand that he can get dirty." For a moment, Malcolm seemed shocked that I should know this, but he quickly recovered, only his eyes remained a bit haunted.

"I've never met Northman, but I'm told he's very attractive. He has a bit of a reputation with woman. That's why I was so surprised when I was told he was coming back for you. Why would he risk it? I'm still not convinced. Regardless, we're going to wait for him together." He took another step closer and grabbed my chin, turning my head toward the window. "You're going to watch for your little lover to come for you down that road, and when he gets close enough that he can almost taste you again, I'm going to shoot him down on that highway."

He spoke in my ear as if it was a secret he was sharing with me. I turned my head away from him and tucked it into my shoulder, praying that this was somehow a dream.

"Oh that won't do. How would Northman feel if you weren't keeping your eye out for him?" Malcolm tugged my chin back up to face the window. Slowly, he waved his pistol in front of my face to give me a good view.

"This should do the trick." He said as began to twist the gun into the ropes that held me. When he was finished, the barrel pushed up under my chin, forcing me to keep my head up. Malcolm took a step back to examine his work. He smiled, satisfied, and began to leave the room.

"Oh, you should know that it's loaded. Just in case you get any ideas about escaping." I heard him say before the sounds of his footfalls faded as he descended the stairs.

For hours, I stood there. My wrists ached where they were tied together at my chest. The post of the bed dug into my shoulders. I could not move my head an inch, wedged between the gun and the bedpost. I doubt I could have slept even I had been comfortable, but I wished desperately for it. I thought perhaps if I could sleep, then I would wake up in a world where Gran was alive, and Eric and I were safe. But I could not, so instead, I cried, and watched the window.

It was nearly dawn when my attention was drawn to a ruckus developing downstairs. I could hear raised voices and soon there was the thunder of several people running up the stairs. The door to the room was thrown open and I could hear someone enter, and stop. I tried to twist my head just a little to see who it was, but I could not budge. Slowly, they approached and walked into my eye line.

"Bill!" I cried to the man who stood away from me, looking at my casement in disbelief.

"Sookie, your Gran..." he began.

"I know." I said with a sob, letting on a couple of tears escape. "Bill, please help me."

"Oh, I don't think that's likely." Malcolm spoke from behind me. Bill diverted his gaze from me. "You see, Mr. Compton here was the one to tip us off in the first place."

"I didn't know you'd do anything like this. You said you just wanted Eric Northman," Bill said.

"Well we didn't know what we were going to find in this quaint little inn. Ms. Stackhouse here was a collaborator. She killed one of our men." Malcolm said matter of factly.

"Sookie, is this true?" Bill looked aghast.

"It happened so fast. He was going to kill Eric." I tried to explain.

"Yes, that's sweet, but still a crime." A clearly bored Malcolm interjected. "So you see Mr. Compton, there's no way I can free her. In fact, this whole house is now under my jurisdiction. It's a delicate operation we're trying to execute. I really can't allow you to stay, you'd be jeopardizing your life as well as the life of my men."

Malcolm finally walked into view and put his hand on Bill's shoulder. Bill glanced up at me one last time, his eyes full of pity and guilt. As he slowly walked out of the room and down the stairs, I hoped that guilt would haunt him.

Malcolm smiled and left me again. Through the window I watched the sun rise and disappear higher into the sky than I could see. I saw a few travelers pass in the distance on the highway, but none where the one I was looking for. The whole day, I fought at my restraints. The ropes dug into my wrists and my hands were soaked in what I could only imagine to be blood and sweat. A plan had slowly developed out of desperation, but I determined to go through with it. When, finally, I was able to twist one hand just a few inches, and my fingers brushed the trigger of Malcolm's pistol, I knew the plan would work.

Peace descended over me as easily as nightfall over the inn. The house quieted in anticipation for Eric's arrival. Every bug or breeze seemed to shatter the silence of the night as we all listened for him. For the first time, I prayed the Eric would not return; that would forget about me, that he would already be aboard the ship with our friends. But then I heard the clatter of his hooves, and I knew there was no hope.

They were getting closer, approaching from the west. The redcoats finally heard it too. Whispers broke out down stairs but were quickly shushed. I knew they must be poised at the windows, crouching and waiting. So was I. He finally appeared, a speck on the highway, but I would know him from any distance. He rushed towards the inn, and I prepared to warn him. He turned off the highway and made down the road to the inn. Malcolm would wait until he was closer, he would not risk missing. But Eric would not get that far. He would hear the shot, and he would run.

I tear escaped my eye as I took a final breath to steady myself, and brought my finger to the trigger.

**So today I sat down at my desk and said to myself: "Ginger, you're not getting up until you finish this chapter."**

**So after I'd cleaned my bedroom, made a few meals, watched a movie, made plans for tomorrow, and recorded some old vinyl records to iTunes, I finally did it. Done! It only took me two months. **

**I was going to cut this chapter off where the redcoats first arrive, but then I thought that after all this time, you guys deserved a respectable cliff hanger to make you hate me more. So you got it.**

**Well...I hope you guys are all enjoying these last bits of summer, especially because True Blood is on. Although, that last episode was crazy. What's with Eric and Sookie's little trip? Wtf, allen ball? wtf?**

**As usual, please drop me a line and tell me how this story is feeling to you. I recently decided that I don't like the ending I planned. So if you've got requests or suggestions, let me know.**


	12. Running Away

As my finger began to apply pressure to the trigger, a noise on the road stopped me. I looked to see Eric pull his horse to a hard stop, still a good distance from the inn. The gravel flew in all directions from the horses legs and he reared up in surprise and the force of the stop. Suddenly, Eric turned the horse and rode off, turning back onto the highway at a full gallop.

"What are you waiting for! After him!" I heard Malcolm yell from downstairs. Boots pounded through the parlor and dining room before heading into the courtyard. Moments later, several horses took off after Eric, Malcolm leading them.

I sagged against my restraints, relief washing over me. I was still alive, which was a an excellent development, but more importantly, Eric was getting away too. Something had tipped him off, and I was glad for it.

Now, it seemed I had to find a way to free myself.

I had been pulling at my ropes all day, and was exhausted, but I wasn't about to give up. After a few more minutes, I began to wonder if I would ever be free. It seemed unlikely; those two giants seemed like the kind of men to have expert hostage-tying-up skills. Even if I did manage to free myself, how would I get past them on my way out. I hadn't seen the brothers leave with the others, their massive forms would have been easy to spot.

I was distracted from my ruminations on the giants by the noises coming from downstairs. There was the unmistakable clang of sword on sword and several hollers of pain or anger. Had someone come to find me only to be ambushed by the giant brothers? I pulled harder at my restraints. Without realizing, I managed quite a bit of slack into the rope that held Malcolm's gun to me. It slipped out of place and fell to the floor, firing when it hit.

I took a moment to mentally examine by body, it seemed everything was accounted for and whole. I looked down at the mischievous little weapon and stared open mouthed at a small hole in my skirts, a tiny wisp of smoke rising from it. I hoped that twice would be the limit for nearly shooting myself in one night. I continued to struggle with my ropes.

"Can I be of assistance?" Came a voice from the door, a voice I knew well.

"Eric!" I called, trying to turn my head to see him. A moment later he stepped into my view with his smirk firmly set on his features. "What are you doing here? I saw you ride away."

"No," he corrected, "you saw a man in my coat ride away on my horse. Very different." He spoke as he cut away a couple of ropes, the whole lot of them dropping away. I immediately hugged him.

"When I heard that gunshot, I thought the worst." He spoke into my hair.

"An accident, but I'm fairly certain I'm still in one peice." I smiled shyly but was distracted by the smell of smoke. "Eric, is something burning?"

"Ah," he looked sheepish, "there was a bit of a scuffle downstairs. I'm afraid one of the brutes may have knocked over a lantern. Indeed, we should probably get out of here while we still can." He backed away from me, keeping hold of my hand and pulling me down the stairs.

The parlor was completely ablaze, it would only be a few minutes before the entire house would be engulfed. Eric held me to his side and pulled me through the dining room, trying to drag me into the courtyard and away. Unfortunately, a sight stopped me and forced me to pull myself from his grasp, running to the other side of the room.

Gran's body had been left on the floor of the dining room. I fell to the floor beside her and put my hand to her cheek, flinching at the coolness of her skin. It was so odd and heartbreaking to see her like this. She was always so full of life, she had been everything to me and now she was dead because of me. I was crying and clutching at her hands, telling her I was sorry, but someone was pulling at me too.

"We have to go, Sookie." Eric was yelling at me over the roar of the fire that threatened to consume the room. The smoke was already oppressive, making my eyes water more and my throat burn.

"We can't just leave her!" I yelled at him.

"There's nothing we can do, Sookie." He clutched my face forcing me to look at him. I knew he was right, but I would not say it out loud. He seemed to understand this and scooped me up into his arms, running us both out of the house.

He carried me through the barn and out into the back pasture where a horse waited. He set me down and mounted the horse, helping me to climb on after him. Without further ado, he sped off away from my home, that was now only a mass of flame and smoke on the highway. I watched it burn as we rode off, my chest wracked with sobs of grief and the coughs of my lungs clearing themselves of smoke. It was the only home I remembered. It housed all of my positions and memories, and the body of the greatest woman I ever knew. I said a silent prayer for her soul and (realizing my own position) for me as well. That was the last I remembered before succumbing to the exhaustion of fear and loss.

When I awoke, the horse had slowed to a trot and the light of dawn flashed through the trunks of the many trees in the wood we were passing through. My fingers were stiff from clutching at Eric's shirt as I slept. I tentatively uncurled them and winced as blood flowed back into them.

"Good, you're awake. I was about to wake you anyway. There's a town coming up. We'll go around, but I figured we'd take a rest just outside. I could get us some food...something to clean up your wrists too," he added as he held one my hands and examined where the ropes had rubbed away my skin. I only nodded at his statement, and he kissed my hand before releasing it.

Eric was true to his word, stopping in the hidden safety of the woods just outside of the small village. He left me to look after the horse and stretch my legs while he went in search of breakfast. I had asked to accompany him, afraid to be alone, but he had pointed out that my dress was covered soot, my own blood, wrinkled from the ride, and had a hole shot through it. Not exactly a smart appearance to flaunt when on the run. It didn't take him long though, he soon returned with a bundle of supplies.

As I picked at the bread he had gotten, Eric cleaned the dried blood from my wrists and bound them in strips of fabric. I stayed silent, listening to the world awake with the morning, but I still felt as if I were in a dream.

"We should be at port by late tonight, tomorrow morning at the latest. After that, it's on to America." Eric smiled, pleased to be the bearer of good news.

"Who was it?" I asked. Eric was taken aback by the odd question, obviously confused. "The man who rode up to the inn in your coat, who was it?"

"Oh, Bill. He stopped me on my way back and told me what had happened. He actually had the plan worked out before I even got there." He smirked at the memory, obviously surprised that it was not him to arrange such a plot.

"Bill? But he was the one to give us up in the first place." I argued.

"Yes, he told me that as well. I suppose that was his penitence." Eric shrugged picking up his share of the food to eat as he stood and stretched.

"Do you think he's alright? There were an awful lot of them after him."

Eric considered it a moment before speaking, "I would guess so. He had a head start, and Bess is a good horse. I wouldn't be surprised if he lost them."

I nodded, I couldn't bring myself to be too worried about the man who betrayed me, but I didn't want Andre's men to succeed either. There was simply too much to think about. I bent forward, letting my head rest between my knees and my arms hug my legs.

"America?" I peeked at Eric.

"Yes," he said, "the others went on ahead, but I promised Amelia that I would get you to follow. Apparently she'll need your help restocking her closet with American fashions."

"I would like to see Jason again," I said.

"Who?" Eric looked puzzled and slightly worried.

"My brother. He stayed in America after the war." I smiled, my head still resting on my knees.

"Oh. I didn't know you had a brother." Eric looked saddened by this.

"There are many things I don't know about you either," I countered.

"Well I am a mysterious sort of person." He smirked.

"Yes, that and we've known each other less than a month." I smiled. He nodded at that and took another bite of his food. I let the cool breeze of the morning dance in my skirt and hair as I thought about America. The thought was unsettling, and it didn't take long to realize why. By the time Eric was finished with his makeshift meal, I had come to a firm conclusion.

"We can't go to America." I said as he checked the reins on the horse in preparation of departure.

"Pardon?" He glanced over at me in shock.

"At least not yet," I qualified. "We can't just leave and hope that Andre gives up on us. You stole a lot of money from him. What makes you think that after one attempt of catching you he'll simply call it quits?"

"I don't believe that at all. In fact, I'm fairly certain that he'll try to recover his money and/or kill me at any cost. That's why I'm getting as far away as possible."

"Why run? You know Andre will eventually find you in America. Will you simply run again?" I asked.

"Yes," he stated emphatically. "Every time I have tried to stand up to Andre, in any capacity, someone has gotten hurt. Most notably: you. I'll not have that happen again."

"Well I'll not live my life constantly afraid that Andre Le Clerq or one of his lackeys will show up on my doorstep. I want to fight."

"Sookie, you can't fight him. He is stronger than you think. Do you not remember the robbery? We nearly lost because we underestimated his forces. There is simply no predicting him."

"Eric, my grandmother is dead. My home is gone. I nearly died. All because of Andre. I cannot run away. I have to find some kind of justice or I will not be able to live with myself."

"Sookie, I have lived with those same thoughts of revenge for years. It is a burden that I cannot carry any longer. It costs. All I want is to take what I still have and be thankful for it." He knelt down in from on me and brought his hands to my face.

"I did not say I wanted revenge. I am not so cruel as to think I will find satisfaction in that. I only want justice, to see him stopped. He has hurt too many people, it cannot continue."

Eric huffed and stood up, pacing in front of me for a few moments. He stopped abruptly and looked down at me. "If I agree to this, then you must promise me you will heed my advice. If it looks as if he's just going to win again, you have to abandon it and run with me, no questions or arguments."

"I suppose that's fair." I conceded. "But we'll need some help."

"A highwayman is not a profession that garners a great deal of friends. So unless you've got someone in mind..." He chuckled.

"I can think of a couple of people that might help." I smiled at his confused look.

**Sorry it's such a short chapter, but it seemed like the smart place to stop. **

*******I have to take a moment and RAVE about a new book series my sister introduced me to. It's called the Parasol Protectorate Series by Gail Carriger and takes place in Victorian England. Similar to SVM, vampires and werewolves are out in society and causing all kinds of trouble. It's incredibly well written and hilarious. I cannot urge you enough to read it. ********

**Ok, back to business. So, this story is not going to be an epic, as such, we've probably got 3 more chapters to go, one of which will likely be an epilogue. Three is an optimistic guess, but you might get one super long next chapter and an epilogue. I hope no one is too disappointed by this news, everything ends eventually.**

**No guess when the next chapter will be out, please be patient. At least you didn't get a horrible cliffhanger like the last chapter. Aren't you glad I didn't make you wait too long for this little baby?**


	13. Of Planning and Bedding

"You're what?" Eric screeched, if a man such as his build could ever be thought to screech.

"Telepathic. Now, please try to keep up." I patted his arm soothingly and turned back to Mr. Norris and Mr. Felton.

"How can you mention that so casually and then expect me to accept it without question? You can hear thoughts? My thoughts?"

"Of course I can, love. But why should I want to when all of your thoughts are so predictable and clearly written across your brow?" I batted my eyelashes at him, hoping to distract him from the topic at hand. He huffed and sat back in his chair, taking a long swallow of ale.

"I say Ms. Stackhouse, you sure did make quick work of this one. I don't believe you two were even on speaking terms last we met." Mr. Norris chuckled over his pipe. Mr. Felton remained silent but I could have sworn I saw a twinkle of amusement behind his eyes. Though if I had, it was a miracle in such dim lighting.

It hadn't been hard to find them; Eric and I had simply stayed on the main road to the coast, only stopping twice to ask after the two men we hunted. They had been delayed on their trip to the coast, distracted by the charms of a particular lakeside Inn. After that, it had taken little convincing (and a change of dress for me) to draw them out for drinks at a crowded pub to hear a proposition.

"That still doesn't explain why I shouldn't be worried." Eric ignored Mr. Norris's statement.

"I'm simply trying to reassure you. Should anything go wrong and Andre suspect foul play, I shall know right off." I huffed, wishing that we could get past this delicate subject.

"It also explains how she knew my secret." Mr. Norris added delightedly.

"Ah, yes. Well, really, calling yourself a writer was not as excellent a guise as you thought. I never one saw you write a letter, let alone anything of more substance. And also your shoes were always quite nice." I smiled at the old man.

"Blast it, Felton. You should have told me to buy cheaper shoes!" Mr. Norris admonished his companion, who only rolled his eyes in response. It was an odd thing to see a man such as Mr. Felton roll his eyes, I couldn't quite tell if he was taking this all in stride or if he disapproved of Mr. Norris's teasing at such a time.

"Sookie, have you always been able to do this? Have you heard everything I've thought since I met you?" Eric looked genuinely taken aback, but I wasn't about to waste precious time soothing all of his worries.

"Eric, can we please discuss this later? There is a larger game afoot." I pleaded with him. He was really being difficult about this. He tried to stare me down for a moment, but when he realized that I was not going to back down, he huffed and leaned back in his chair.

"Do tell, Mrs. Stackhouse, when do you plan to pull off such a scheme?" Mr. Felton spoke for one of the first times of the evening. He had offered bits of advice when applicable, but for the most part sat silently contemplating what I had proposed.

"Well, Mr. Felton, how soon can you depart for London?"

The plan had developed almost spontaneously...with help from Eric. And permission. To put it mildly, Eric had not been excited about the part he was to play. It had taken half a day to convince him that this would be the only way that Andre would play along, but he only begrudgingly agreed. Convincing Mr. Norris and Mr. Felton had been far easier by comparison.

Showing up blood and soot covered had assuredly surprised the two men. But once Eric and I had caught them up on the events of the Inn, they had wholeheartedly agreed to help. Mr. Felton approached the situation with the zeal of a bored, retired soldier ready for a new fight...which was precisely what he was. Mr. Norris was far more excited and found the prospect of the coming days to be an adventure that by far eclipsed that of his current journey. I was relieved that both were on board, neither would have gone alone and they both had an important role to play.

Luckily, Mr. Felton agreed that time was of the essence and made arrangements to depart the following morning.

"My Lord, welcome back. It is so good to have you home." A frail looking butler greeted Mr. Norris upon arrival at his London residence.

"Good to be home, Kippling, good to _be_ home." Mr. Norris strolled into the foyer with the air of seriousness and superiority that befitted his station. The somber attitude had replaced the jovial spirits of the gentleman the moment the city had been within sight. I was sad to see the playful glint in his eye slowly disappear, but I knew it was best we all set ourselves to the business at hand. Eric had been brooding since the journey to London began, and Mr. Felton had been as impassive as ever. I was simply excited.

Stepping into the house, we were all greeted with a bow from Kippling and introduced by Mr. Norris. At least in my mind, I would not be able to call him 'Lord'.

"I trust all of the rooms are prepared for company?" Mr. Norris asked as he scanned the entrance of the house, as if reacquainting himself with it.

"Of course, my Lord."

"Then perhaps we should all retire for the evening and regroup in the morning?" Mr. Norris suggested. We all murmured out acceptance of the plan, weary from the frenzied carriage ride to London; we'd stopped only for necessities and made record time. Mr. Norris wished us all goodnight and disappeared up the stairs. Kippling led us in the same direction and saw us all to our rooms, urging us not to hesitate to ring for him if we should need anything.

My room was much larger and ornate than any I had ever stayed in. Everything in the room was luxurious, but it was the bed that commanded attention. I knew instinctively that Amelia would have gasped at the sight of it and perhaps even shed a few tears of happiness. I, on the other hand, was hesitant. I had never seen a bed so laden with fabric. The pillows and blankets were piled high and of the highest quality and design. But it was the curtains that truly drew in the eye. In shades of pink and gold, they cascaded down from the high ceiling at all four corners. They would flow in an unnatural direction before being gathered in a garish pouf and once again fall and gather and drape. Beautiful though they were, I couldn't help but wonder how such heavy lengths of fabric would be supported. What if they should fall?

I decided I would work my way up to the bed. So after undressing and wrapping myself in a pilfered blanket, I sat on a lovely chaise in front of the modest fire and stared into its flickering depths. As it turns out, that was not the best idea. Instantly, I was caught up in images of the inn ablaze. It had only been a few days since that night and I had barely allowed myself time to think of it. But I would have given anything to trade this room for the one that no longer existed, but was so much more comfortable. I longed for home, and so much more dearly, for the woman who had been left behind there. I had tried so desperately not to think of her, to instead focus on the justice I would have for her death. But there was so much pain still. This was exactly the time I needed her, when she would tell me something so bright and honest to give me hope and strength. But it was someone else who came in her stead.

He'd come in without me hearing. I don't know how long he'd stood there watching me cry before he resigned himself to comfort me. His face was unreadable as he moved me to make room for himself on the chaise. When he sat, he pulled me against his chest and let me cry into his shirt for a bit longer. Though now that I had an audience, I found the will to stifle the tears and calm myself.

"I am sorry." I said, half muffled into his chest.

"Why should you be sorry?" He asked with genuine curiosity. His chest moved as he glanced down at me, but I didn't meet his gaze.

"I want so bad to be as strong as you. I want to see him pay, as you do, but I have so much fear still. He's like the ghost that Jason always told me lived in the attic. I feel like he's haunting me. Taunting me."

"I thought you could read my thoughts, yet you talk as if I am not scared as well."

"You don't show it." I countered, jealousy clear in my voice.

"I have years of practice." He began to stroke the top of my head and I let the silence grow around us for some time. I wanted so badly to feel safe here, but I knew that I would not truly be safe until Andre was dispatched. Nevertheless, the soft rise and fall of Eric's chest afforded me the most comfort I could ask for. All else aside, I still had him.

"Do you think I'll like America?" I asked sleepily.

"Yes."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Well for one thing, the weather is more agreeable." He muttered disdainfully. I giggled and turned my head toward the window where rain quietly tapped against it.

"I don't mind the rain so much."

"Yes, but you will love the sun. Someone as bright and warm as you shouldn't be forced to endure so many clouds." He playfully chatted. "And for another thing, you have family and friends in America."

I thought about this for a moment and realized he was right. In fact, America was now the only place where I had family and friends (aside from Mr. Norris and Mr. Felton).

"It already feels like home, and I've never been there."

"That's the greatest part of having a home, you don't even have to know it's there until you find it." He whispered into my hair before kissing the top of my head. I smiled, but it faded as I felt him stir under me. He stood up, and smirked at my angry expression. Without a word, he scooped me up off of my perch and carried me over to the bed, depositing me firmly into the pile of pillows that threatened to swallow me whole. Unsurprisingly, it was quite comfortable.

I watched as he walked around the bed and shed his shirt before making a move to climb into the other side.

"Just what do you think you're doing?" I asked, lifting myself up onto my arms for a better vantage point.

"...I'm going to bed." He answered, quite confused.

"Not in here, you're not." I said firmly.

"Why not?" I wanted to laugh at the dumbfounded look on his face, but I knew it would not help my case.

"What if the staff should find you in here in the morning?" He didn't answer, simply stared at me open mouthed. "It's too embarrassing. You can't possibly stay in here. Imagine what they'd say."

"They're the _staff_. You can't possibly care what they think." He said in amazement. When my face didn't soften, he realized that I did, in fact, care what they thought. He huffed and picked up his shirt before heading for the door muttering. "What does a man have to do to sleep in the same bloody bed as his woman?"

"I supposed you'd have to marry me." I said with a laugh as he opened the door.

"I suppose I will." He continued his muttering and without a backward glance, shut the door firmly behind him.

Admittedly, I hadn't anticipated a response of any kind, but I was unsurprised to find myself glad I had received one. I slunk down further in my covers and forced myself to sleep. Tomorrow, there would be so much to do.

**Ok, I know it's not very long and there wasn't really any action. But I had to lay the groundwork for what's coming next. Hopefully I'm leading up to something everyone will find satisfying. Just a couple more chapters to go now!**

**Side note: School is starting tomorrow. I do not know what effect this will have on my writing. Hopefully none, considering I don't really have a structured writing schedule or anything. But if I'm a little slow, that's why.**

**Thank you all for sticking with me and not sending me too many angry PMs about how slow/historically inaccurate/spellingly challenged I am. All of your reviews are cherished and I take any criticism/advice under consideration. So keep 'em coming!**


	14. An Evening's Festivities

**Woah! I am so excited to have a new chapter for you guys! I know it's been a while. It's been a real struggle trying to find inspiration and time to write since I started school up again. Hopefully you all forgive me and can enjoy this latest installment...**

**As always, I do not own any of the characters, I just like to pretend.**

London had been abuzz with news of Mr. Norris's early return from holiday. Not only was he back so soon, but he had swept into town in the dark of night, towing a mysterious entourage with him. This news was only eclipsed by the announcement that he would be throwing a party to welcome himself and his company back to the city. The very same party that would be beginning in only a few hours.

Apparently, Mr. Norris was never known to return in such a fashion. Nor was he accustomed to throwing such parties since his wife's death many years ago. Needless to say, all of this had made Mr. Norris's party the most desired invitation in town; which is exactly as we hoped for. There wasn't a single person in this city that didn't accept their invitation promptly and graciously; including Andre Le Clerq.

This morning, the house had been full of bustling bodies preparing the grand soiree. Given the fact that I knew nothing of arranging parties of this caliber, Mr. Norris had planned it all himself. By which I mean, he, himself, had told Mr. Felton to deal with it. Mr. Felton had then left the very capable Kippling in charge.

The entry way glowed in the morning light. Every surface sparkled and shined and flowers were placed strategically around the room, along with fresh candles and lanterns that would be lit at dark. Peeking into the other rooms, I found the same careful attention to detail and style. The dining room was arranged as usual, waiting for me to sit and be served my breakfast, as had been the custom of the past two weeks.

"Good! You're up." I had just taken my seat when Mr. Norris came striding into the room, Mr. Felton and Eric following close behind.

"Yes. Good morning Mr. Norris, Mr. Felton." I nodded to both men and smiled at Eric, who half-heartedly returned it. Mr. Norris took a seat at the head of the table and slapped the morning paper down between us.

"That's three days in a row they've mentioned me and the party. As well as my unnamed guests." Mr. Norris announced ecstatically, chuckling for good measure. Being now occupied, the table was promptly filled with food and tea.

"Is everything in order then?" I asked. Mr. Felton nodded from across the table and Eric, at my side, remained silent and unmoving.

"You don't have to go through with it if you don't want to." I said quietly to him, having no illusions that the others would not hear us.

"I'm not worried for myself." Eric said plainly before beginning to work on his breakfast. He clearly wished to end the thought. Mr. Norris ignored Eric's wishes.

"There's nothing to be concerned about. Everyone involved is a trusted ally," he declared. But looking around the table, he'd put no one's mind to rest.

It was later that day when his fears resurfaced.

"No. I've changed my mind. We are absolutely not going through with this." Eric crossed his arms over his chest in a stand of dominance, but its severity was lessened by the flicker of horror in his eyes. Apparently Eric did not like the ensemble I'd chosen for the evening.

"Why would you want to quit when we're so close? After tonight, it'll all be over." I put my hands on his chest and looked up into his face, hopefully using my feminine wiles correctly.

"But the red is so..." Eric struggled to find the word that would properly describe my dress and therefore shame me into changing. Strange that he should be so lost...I could think of plenty of words, I was simply trying not to think of it.

"It's what is required." I had convinced myself that the dress was necessary, but convincing Eric seemed like a much more arduous task. I myself had had doubts about the color and cut of the bodice, but I was determined to play my part to the fullest.

"It's not too late to just leave." He attempted to sway me once more, but only halfheartedly. We both knew what needed to be done. I didn't even need to answer him.

"Northman! What are you still doing here? Guests will be arriving soon!" Mr. Norris had discovered us on his way down the hall and looked at Eric in horror.

"I was just leaving. I wanted to wish Ms. Stackhouse good luck this evening." Eric spoke, still angry and avoiding Mr. Norris's gaze.

"Ms. Stackhouse is more that capable of performing tonight, she certainly looks the part. But you will render it all for naught if you are seen. You must leave at once."

"I was just trying to convince him of that very thing." I took a step towards Mr. Norris, who graciously offered me his arm. I smiled and accepted, turning back to Eric to show him what good hands I was in.

"Yes, alright. Until later." He brusquely nodded and glided down the stairs so smoothly and with such speed I could not even give him a final farewell before he was gone.

Mr. Norris led us down the stairs at a much more appropriate pace.

"I'm quite excited for this evening. I've never attempted a ruse of this magnitude." He smiled brightly at me as we reached the foyer.

"Mr. Norris, I don't believe I've yet thanked you for your hospitality and support. I could not imagine what we would have done without you and Mr. Felton." I squeezed his arm that mine rested on.

"Oh dear, don't get sentimental now. The show is about to begin." He helped me to perch on a chair in his study as Mr. Felton entered, appearing quite striking in his finest attire. Even his hair was combed, making it, with its hint of grey, appear dignified.

"Good evening Ms. Stackhouse, allow me to compliment your choice of dresses." He seemed a bit uncomfortable but I nodded at the statement.

"Isn't it delightfully indecent?" Mr. Norris chuckled. "Tonight may be the first that I am glad she is not my daughter, else I should make her change it!"

"My lord, the guests have begun to arrive, I suggest you are there to greet them." Mr. Felton interrupted Mr. Norris's laughter and my mortification.

"Of course, of course." He waved dismissively at Mr. Felton. "Sookie, I shall send for you as soon as you are need." He said, taking his leave.

Only moments later did I notice the house begin to fill with voices and the music began to play. The ballroom was on the other side of the house, but I could still sense it filling with bodies and excited minds. I restrained myself and did not listen too closely, hoping to reserve my energy, but it seemed everyone was in good spirits and enjoying the evening.

I spent perhaps half of an hour in this fashion, quietly waiting to be summoned. I felt as if I was shaking with nerves and excitement, not sure how I would feel when it was all over. But I prayed that everything would go off as planned.

"Ms...Hale?" Mr. Felton had cracked the door, allowing the noise to permeate the study more fully, and calling my attention to him.

"I suppose it's time." I spoke to myself, standing and walking towards him, accepting his offered arm. He led me through the endless crowd that seemed to populate every room of the house. Few noticed as we passed, but I was looking into every face, waiting for the one that was most important. I finally found him, speaking politely with Mr. Norris, but seeming completely disinterested.

"He looks so young." I thought aloud to myself. It was the first thing I had noticed. Standing next to old Mr. Norris he looked no more than a boy. His features were soft and feminine and his hair delicately styled. I could easily picture his mother dressing him in his finest for the evening.

"He is. Not yet 25. His father died young and he inherited his title when he was still a boy." Mr. Felton supplied from next to me.

"He looks so innocent."

"A disguise." Mr. Felton mumbled before letting go of my arm to disappeared back into the crowd.

Andre finally looked up and was watching me intently as we approached. Mr. Norris followed his eyes and smiled, so far, the plan was working.

"My Lord, allow me to introduce Ms. Susanna Hale." Mr. Norris spoke when we had finally reached them.

"Please do. Andre Le Clerq." He introduced himself as he took my hand to kiss it. "Norris, have you been hiding this delightful gem from me?"

"I'm offended you think so, my Lord. She's only just arrived in town. Ms. Hale is the daughter of my late wife's cousin. Her parents have entrusted me with her for the season. It would be a shame for her to miss summer in London."

"Indeed. A crime to hide such a beauty in the country." Andre smiled at me, his eyes hungry.

"You flatter, my Lord. I see I have not heard lies about the gentlemen of London." I smiled brightly at him, assuring him of my supposed attraction. I had been surprised that his voice only barely betrayed his French origins. But I knew from Eric that he never stayed in one place for very long. I wouldn't be surprised if he spoke most languages perfectly.

"I've told her to be careful, the gentlemen of the younger generation are so dangerous these days." Mr. Norris offered.

"Surely you don't include me in your harsh review?" Andre asked, feigning shock and hurt.

"No, no of course not. You are a fine example, my Lord." Mr. Norris slapped him on the shoulder and chuckled. "Oh dear, I see someone I must greet. Since your wife could not make it this evening, will you escort Ms. Hale for a moment, I'm afraid she doesn't know many people here."

"Of course, Norris, I would be honored." Andre brightened considerably at the prospect. Mr. Norris nodded and turned, leaving us for an imaginary acquaintance.

"Tell me Ms. Hale, how do you find London?" Andre asked as he slid his arm around mine and led me deeper into the horde.

"Well the country has been so...unpleasant as of late. I simply felt the need to be away. I desired so much to meet new people, and where better a place to do that than London?" I smiled and batted my eyes at him, putting those wiles back to work.

"And are you pleased with those you've met so far?" He asked seriously.

"To be honest, it's been a bit of a disappointment. Until recently, of course." I added shyly.

"Well, let us see if we can find some more worthy recipients of your attentions." He smiled conspiratorially.

I believe, at this point, it had become abundantly clear that the dress was an indisputable success. Andre was enjoying his evening, pointing out guests and attempting to shock me with gossip of them. More often than once I was tempted to correct his misinformation. The man was not very skilled at reading people, but I suppose, compared to a telepath, no one was. It seemed hours before Mr. Norris resurfaced.

"Ah, there you are my dear!" He exclaimed as he came and kissed my cheek in greeting. "Thank you Andre for keeping her entertained."

"Yes thank you," I added. "He has been giving me invaluable information about your guests. I feel as if I know them all already!" We all began to chuckle as, on cue, Mr. Felton approached.

"Ah Mr. Felton, where have you been this evening?" Mr. Norris greeted him, inviting him to join our conversation.

"I apologize, I've been outside taking in the air." Mr. Felton offered in explanation.

"Avoiding socializing at all costs, no doubt. But forgive me, I don't believe you've met Lord Andre Le Clerq of Paris." Mr. Norris motioned to Andre and both men nodded respectfully to the other.

"Le Clerq? You're not by any chance the same Le Cleq that's just recently lost a carriage along the southern highway?"

"Indeed. Damned thieves. Killed several of my men too." Andre's eye darkened as he spoke, his jaw tight.

"Yes, a friend of mine was just telling me of the ordeal. I never heard such a thing, so rare for the culprit to be caught in such a crime. Let alone having the carriage recovered." Mr. Felton took a sip of his drink.

"I'm sorry, I believe you were misinformed. My property was the lost and the highwayman escaped." Andre corrected him.

"Unless there is another Andre Le Clerq, it seems unlikely. My source is reliable. Had you not been informed of the apprehension?" Mr. Felton was the picture of ease. He sipped as his drink lazily and seemed completely disinterested in the topic at hand. I couldn't tell if this was his superior acting at work, or if he simply was bored with the evening.

"No. Are you quite sure they captured the man?" Andre's eyes sparkled at the thought.

"Yes. They transferred him back to town, he's being held just a few blocks from here." Mr. Felton offered casually.

"His name? Do you recall the thief's name?" Andre begged.

"Ah...yes. Mr...Eastman. No, that's not right. Let's see..."

"Northman?" Andre offered.

"Yes that's it! A Mr. Northman." Felton nodded. Andre stayed silent for a moment, seeming to calculate. I held my breath, waiting for his response to the news. I watched his mind working. He had believed it all and was nothing but satisfied with the news. His mind swirled with images of Eric, from what I suspected was his time spent in France. From what I saw, they had never once had a pleasant encounter, and since the very first, Andre had wanted him done away with. For him, it was all coming to fruition.

"Mr. Felton, I would hate to ask such a favor of a man I've just met, but could you take me to this man? I should like to see his face." Andre spoke carefully, a predator's look in his eye.

"I normally would not hesitate, my Lord, but I fear to insult our host by leaving so early." Mr. Felton looked to Mr. Norris.

"Nonsense!" Mr. Norris shouted, gaining the momentary attention of many other guests. "I'm already bored with the festivities. But I should like to meet a true, desperate criminal."

He looked positively giddy at the idea. I smiled, proud of Mr. Norris's acting, though I suspected he may actually be as excited as he seemed. It was agreed that we should all go to see this captive man, as I could not be left alone is such a strange company.

Mr. Norris called for his carriage and we all disappeared from the party in a whirl of thrill, the majority of which seemed to be felt by Lord Andre Le Clerq.

The ride through London was a sharp contrast to the party. Leaving the house, the quiet had swept in on us, only to gain strength as we sped away. The clatter of the wheels on the street was the only sound to accompany us. Inside the carriage, we were all quiet. Mr. Norris maintained his high spirits as he peered out the windows, anxious for us to reach our destination. Mr. Felton remained as he normally was. And Andre was lost in his thoughts. I was thankful that no eyes were on me as the rocking of the carriage threatened to expose my endowments to the entire group. I prayed Mr. Felton had chosen a location near to the house.

I was both thankful and nervous when we came to a stop on a dark and abandoned street.

"We're here!" Mr. Norris broke the quiet and escaped first out the door. He assisted me down as we all waited for Mr. Felton to lead us inside the building we had stopped in front of.

It was a gloomy, unmarked facade, blocked in by other drab commercial buildings. There was no light to be found in any of the windows and all doors were closed and seemingly barred. Mr. Felton stepped forward without a word and knocked on the small door. For several moments there was no answer. The sound of the locks being undone made me jump, stifling the silence of the night.

"Felton! I didn't realize you'd be stopping by." The short, uniformed man who answered the door gave us a glance after addressing Felton and turned back to him with a curious glance.

"Yes. I found Lord Le Clerq and he requested an audience with your captive." Felton informed the man.

"Ah! We were going to send for him in the morning. Saved us some work!" He stepped aside and motioned for us to enter. Andre led the way, eager to see his recovered loot, and likely more eager to see Eric. I, on the other hand, was nervous.

Stepping over the threshold, I found the inside to be not much better lit than the street. Several soldiers sat in the corner playing at cards and laughing. Upon Mr. Felton's entry, they'd all stood at attention for him. He sighed and motioned for them to sit. They all nodded to me and went back to their game.

"He's over here." The man who had answered the door led us to the other side of the room where a single cell was set aside. It was occupied by a very familiar person. Andre passed by me and approached the cell, chuckling in delight.

"Well, well. Eric Northman. It has been _far_ too long." Andre sighed letting his hand linger on one of the bars.

"Why Andre, I didn't realize you missed me so much. Has your heart grown fonder with my absence?" Eric stepped closer to the bars and into the dim light, as smirk playing at his lips. He wouldn't look in my direction, his full focus on Andre. For this I was thankful. It pained me to see him behind bars, it was something I had feared since I had first found out about his profession.

"I think not. I believe my mood would benefit greatly if I were to never see you again. Alas, it's proving to be difficult to get rid of you."

"Perhaps you should try harder." Eric goaded him.

"I intend to." Andre's smile disappeared, his gaze nothing but murderous as he looked at Eric through the bars. "Mr. Felton, would you take me to my recovered property?"

Mr. Felton nodded and gestured for the soldier to lead the way. I hung back for a moment and let the others pass me to follow. I spared a single glance at Eric, who met it and offered me the smallest nod. It was all I needed to steel my will and continue. I turned and caught up quickly with the group.

We all followed as the man led us to the back of the building and opened a door for us to enter the alley. There, in the narrow street stood a very familiar looking carriage.

"Ha ha! Wonderful." Andre exclaimed as he circled the carriage, inspecting it. His hand caressed it lightly as he passed, confirming it was not a mirage. He made a move to open the door but Mr. Felton's hand shot out and held it closed. Andre glared at him and his interference.

"Apologies, but I would discourage you from revealing its contents to the street. Let us not tempt fate." Felton shifted his eyes to the dark alley, giving it a significant once-over. Andre followed his gaze and pulled his hand from the door, leaving it firmly latched.

"Yes of course," he said soberly. "Felton, would you see to it that my property be taken directly back to my vault?"

"Certainly. Quincy here is more than capable, just provide him with the details." Felton gestured to the soldier that was standing back from the group.

"I think it best if I accompany it. You will need my permission to access the vault anyway." Andre said.

"Must you? We've nearly missed the entire party at this point. I was hoping you'd at least accompany me for the last dance." I whined, wrapping my arm around Andre's arm and pouting up at him.

"Yes, it would be a shame to miss that." He folded, his eyes not on my face.

"Excellent. Let's leave this dreary place." I pulled him towards the exit.

Andre ascended into the carriage as if on a cloud. He had been beaming as he'd given Quincy instructions for the carriage and bid Eric a farewell. He'd promised to return the next day with an appropriate guard; though all but Andre knew that no one would come for Eric, and Eric wouldn't be there if they did.

"I can think of very few ways in which this night could be improved." Andre leered from the seat across from me.

"I agree," Mr. Norris beamed. "I do so love it when unexpected events arise, the seedier the better."

"I wasn't so much referring to that as I was the fact that I've regained a considerable amount of my property." Andre corrected.

"Of course. What an unlikely turn that was. I must congratulate you on your luck." Mr. Norris smiled kindly.

"Yes, I've always been quite fortunate." Andre bragged, content as he leaned back, relaxing into his seat.

Very soon, we arrived back at the house. Though some people had departed, the party was still in full swing. The band was playing bright tunes and though everyone was alive with joy, I was anxious for the night to be ober. We were so close to succeeding.

"Ms. Hale, I believe I promised you a dance." Andre held out his hand, a victorious smile on his thin lips.

"Of course, my Lord." I nodded and took his hand, allowing his to lead me inside.

My skill crawled as he pulled me close to him and spun me around in the motions of the dance. I was counting the minutes, praying for our last guest to arrive; a special invitation. It was nearly an hour later when Kippling came over to address Andre.

"My Lord, there is a man asking for you at the door." Kippling addressed him with a bow. Andre seemed confused but set down his glass of champagne and followed him to the door. I was not far behind. Andre stepped outside and stopped to examine the man who stood at the bottom of the steps.

"Are you Andre Le Clerq?" The portly, older gentleman asked. Andre nodded silently and the man ascended the steps so he was at eye level. "My name is constable Dearborn. A grievance has been filed against you, my Lord, I'm afraid I'm going to have to arrest you."

"Arrest me? For what?" Andre took a step back from the constable and looked around to see just how many people would be witness to this gross embarrassment.

"You've been named as a conspirator in the murder of a Mrs. Adele Hale and the attempted murder of her granddaughter Ms. Stackhouse." The constable waited for Andre to acknowledge the charge. He took several moments to do so. Understanding dawned on his face. He turned his head a bit to glare in my general direction before turning back to Mr. Dearborn.

"Dare I ask the name of my accuser?" He asked through a clenched jaw.

"A man by the name of Rene Lenier. He's currently under arrest for the murder of Mrs. Hale and impersonating a British officer. He's confessed and claims he was under your orders. He's provided us with ample proof, I assure you."

"I'm sure he has." Andre folded his fingers together and took a deep breath, closing his eyes in frustration.

"I'm afraid you'll have to come with me, sir." Constable Dearborn wrapped his hand around Andre's arm and began to lead him to the waiting carriage; the one with barred windows.

"Oh, just a moment, if you don't mind!" Mr. Norris stepped into the scene and approached the defamed Marquis. "Monsieur, I must say I am quite shocked with the turn this evening has taken. Though not so much as you I suppose. I only wish to offer my support. Should you find yourself without the means to acquire appropriate defense for yourself, I shall do my upmost to ensure that you find justice."

"What do you mean?" Andre asked, confused.

"Well I hear there have been a string of robberies. Quite skilled confidence men at work. And I seem to recall that just this evening you've given a man written authority to enter your private vault. Though I'm sure it's nothing to worry about, no doubt one of his majesty's soldiers can be trusted."

Mr. Norris turned away from Andre and did not see the look of confusion, then understanding, then rage that was aimed at his back. But I did, and it was quite satisfactory. Andre began to scream in French as the constable pushed him into the awaiting carriage. The carriage had reached the end of the block before his curses quieted into the night.

**Yay! It all went as they wanted. Though I hadn't planned on it, the adrenaline of finally finishing a chapter makes me want to continue this story for many more chapters. But I guess I'll have to see if you guys would be satisfied to see it wind down, or if you want me to continue the adventure in America. Keep in mind that this chapter took...let's count em...SEVEN MONTHS to get done.**

**Wow. Holy Crapsticks. Did not realize it have been that long. Did I mention that I was sorry?**

**Anyway. Tell me what you think and we'll go from there. If worst comes to worst, there will be at least one more chapter to wrap it all up.**


	15. An Ending and a New Beginning

The evening's festivities had climaxed with Andre's arrest. After that, the guests had slowly started to depart and the house was left empty once again. I was exhausted after the evening and Mr. Norris sent me to bed with no room for argument.

In my room, I stripped from the crimson gown and let my shields fall away, baring everything. I fell into the too-soft bed and curled into a ball in the middle. I wanted to cry, but I couldn't help but think how unwarranted it was. Tonight had gone well. Gran's killer would find justice for his crimes, Eric and I were free, and tomorrow I would begin my journey to my brother and friends. I missed Gran, that much was certainly true. But I knew she would hate to see me cry over her. She would want me to love the memory of her, but move forward. And I was going to do just that. After, of course, I slept.

Sleep I did. So deep and peaceful that I could not remember a time I slept so good. But it was not so deep that I did not awaken when the bed shifted under the weight of another occupant. His tall frame gingerly climbed towards me, careful to not disturb me. It was in vain, I would always know when he was near. I turned and smiled at him as he began to lay behind me. He frowned momentarily at his failed attempt at sneaking, but then smiled back to me. Without words, he pulled me into his chest and wrapped his arms around me. I relaxed into his embrace and he took a deep breath at my neck, taking in my scent.

"Is it really over?" I asked quietly.

"Yes," he responded. I let out a breath I had been holding, sinking further into the bed. That was the only thing I needed to know before I would let sleep take me again. The night began to disappear again into the land of dreams, disturbed only by Eric's voice.

"Will you marry me?" He seemed to barely breath the words into my neck. I smiled, so close to oblivion, but allowed myself to respond.

"Mhmm," I nodded minutely and felt him place his lips against my shoulder before I was lost completely into my sleep.

When the morning light peeked though the curtains, I awoke willingly, not scared of the day before me. There was still a large mass pinning me in place and I struggled in vain to free myself. It must have been several minutes of struggling before I felt the lump at my back shake with laughter.

"Going somewhere?" He asked, pulling me tighter.

"Yes actually," I said, turning to look at his face. "America. Would you like to join me?"

"Mmm, what kind of husband would I be if I didn't accompany my wife." He exhaled into my chest, where his face had somehow taken up residence. I giggled as his stubble brushed against my skin. His hand began to push the edges of my shift upwards, revealing more skin to molest. I wiggled away while he was distracted, rolling out of bed and glancing at him disapproving.

"Now, now. We are not yet married." I shook my head and turned to sit at my vanity and began to brush out my hair. I heard him sigh and fall back into the mattress.

"I believe we should rectify this situation as soon as possible." He spoke to the ceiling, clearly frustrated.

"I agree." I smiled happily at my reflection.

"Do you think that Norris and Felton would be appropriate witnesses? We could do it before we leave town." he sounded excited at the prospect. I was about to say yes when I thought better of it. It didn't feel right and it took me a moment to figure out why.

"No." I turned back to face him, his face confused at my negative response. "I think we should wait until we reach America. I want a new life there. I've lost so many people that I love here. I want my new life to be about the people and love I gain. When I get there, I will have a brother again, and my friends. Will you allow me gain a husband in America as well?"

"Of course." He smiled lovingly at me and I returned it. His smile suddenly turned mischievous. "You realize, you'll also be gaining a sister when you marry me?"

"Oh, yes! I hadn't thought of it. But I will look forward to that, too. I've always wanted a sister."

I turned back to my vanity and began to wash my face. I heard a growl of frustration and turned back to Eric.

"What is it? Do you think Pam will not approve of our union?" I worried.

"No. I was just thinking what a long crossing it is to America. It seems I'll have a cold, bachelor's bed for the entirety of it," he pouted. I softened at the sight and went to sit beside him.

"I shall promise to warm it if you promise not to take advantage of the situation," I said sternly.

He thought about it for a long moment, his forehead creased in his concentration. "I'm sorry, it's a promise I cannot make."

I laughed and bent down to kiss him. "I shall keep it warm, regardless."

Saying goodbye to Mr. Norris and Mr. Felton was a far more difficult task than I had anticipated. I stood out on the walk, stalling my departure. I wasn't sure when I would next see either of them, if at all.

"I cannot thank you enough for all of your kindness." I spoke to Mr. Norris , holding both of his hands. I leaned in to place a small kiss on his cheek and smiled at his grin.

"Don't think of it. I've only done the same service as any slightly foolish old man would." He winked at me.

"I wish I could have known you in kinder times, Mr. Norris. We might have had a friendship of greater longevity." I smiled sadly.

"And I wish I had known you in my younger years. I believe I could have stolen you from even this one." He gestured to Eric at my side.

"I don't doubt that Mr. Norris." I couldn't resist but pulling him in for another hug.

"Now is not the time for extended farewells, Ms. Stackhouse. You cannot delay any longer or you will miss your ship!" He took me by the shoulders and held me at arm's length, looking me sternly in the eye.

"You are right. I thank you again Mr. Norris. If I am fortunate, our paths will cross again." I said hopefully. Mr. Norris nodded and smiled one last time before I turned and Eric assisted me into the carriage. He followed closely behind and closed the door firmly behind us.

The carriage jarred forward and jostled down the street, leaving my friends behind. Eric sensed my sadness and pulled me into his side.

"Soon, we will be in warmer climates amongst friends and family." He spoke, brushing his lips over my hair as he did.

"And rich," I added with a smile. He laughed.

"We don't have to wait for that part. Our spoils have already been won." He reminded me.

"Are we traveling comfortably then?" I asked curiously.

"Of course. I've secured the most comfortable cabin on this ship. I wouldn't ask you to journey in anything less." I smiled back at him and turned to look out the window. The city was passing us by, and somehow I knew this would be the last time I would see London.

"Tell me about America. What should I expect?"

"In all honesty, I'm not entirely sure what to expect. We'll be living a bit further south than where I've been. But I hear it's lovely. Quite warm."

"I suppose it will be an adventure in itself." I assessed.

"My lover, I'm beginning to think that everything we do will be an adventure." He chuckled.

"Do not even suggest that!" I snapped at him. "I want a normal life. No more highwayman and his mischief. No more plots. No more death and fires. No more enemies. We shall have a normal life; full of friends and family and peace."

Eric looked at me for a long moment, skepticism clear on his face. He soon shook his head a little and manifested a smile to please me.

"If that is what you want, then you shall have it." I didn't believe it. I doubted even he believed his own words. I let all my breath out and scooted closer to him on the seat.

"I suppose when I chose you, I chose trouble as well." I spoke into his chest, my arms wrapped around his.

"I'm afraid you might have." He agreed.

I continued to hold onto him as the scenes outside the window continued to flash by. I was scared, that much at least was true. But I was also excited at the prospect of a new life in the American south. It help promise that I could not have dreamt of a few months ago. And despite his doubt, I would do my best to keep out of trouble there. After all, America was a land of opportunity and freedom, what could possibly threaten us there?

**A/N: Well that's it my lovelies. I know I told you that I might continue the story, but with my slow progress, I don't think that would be very fair to anyone. I have considered starting a new story, set in the viking age, but we'll see. All in all, it's been a blast and I hope I've brightened a few of your days and nights as much as you have by giving me this opportunity to spread my creative wings. **

**Love and thank you to all of my readers.**


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